The Missing Chronicle:The Lion's Pride
by BringOnTheShackles
Summary: Edward Cullen wants love, true love, for love's sake and the sake of love alone.But appropriate love.Not with his new bed slave, no matter how beautiful she is.But nor with the Queen his father is enouraging him to marry, for how could that ever be true?
1. Dangerous Lightening

This is The Missing Chronicle:The Lion, The Witch and His Lioness from Edward's POV.

I don't think it hugely matters if you've read the other one first, this stands as a story on its own, Edward's own individual story, but to those of you reading this after the other then I hope this answers any questions you had ro sheds a light on some of Edward's behaviour and decisions.

**To everyone who has waited for this and stuck by me through dry spells and writers' block, you're amazing and you're the reason this is finally on here, if it wasn't for you guys I'd have given up.**

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**Chapter 1. Lightening.**

"_Before you, Bella, my life was like moonless night. Very dark, but there were stars-points of light and reason. ...And then you shot across my sky like a meteor."_

"Cousin," I greeted Tanya, bending down to kiss her cheek, "Will you do me the honour of sitting by me at dinner?"

"Anything for the birthday boy," she laughed at me, tossing her thick mane of blond curls over her shoulder, "You can relax Edward, no one is within hearing distance."

"As if I'm the one concerned with appearances," I muttered in her ear as she placed her hand on my arm and allowed me to guide her over to the seat next to me at the table.

I could feel my aunt, Tanya's mother, watching my every move. She was desperate for a marriage between us, but it would never happen, as my own siblings and parents knew quite well. But they had tried. I remembered the day I had met Tanya. It had been early summertime, very late June. I was already four and she would turn four that July. She had been sent to spend the summer with us, the reason given being that her eldest sister Irina was engaged to a Narnian man and the entire family would be going to Narnia that summer to meet him. Tanya, however, was deemed by her mother 'too young' to travel such a distance and as her father worked with my father at the Court in Narnia and would be spending his summer there regardless, there was no one to watch over Tanya.

The real reason of course had been to have Tanya and I strike up a friendship that would hopefully in due time flourish to romance. Or at least Tanya's mother was hopeful of this, as with my father's social standing at the Narnian Court was higher than anyone's other than the King himself, I was a favourable husband, even if I did say so myself. My mother and father themselves were open to the idea of a marriage between Tanya and I but they were not set on it.

Tanya had been perfectly polite when we were introduced but the minute the two of us were alone together she'd turned to me and said "Just so we are entirely clear, I have no intentions whatsoever of ever falling in love with you. And that may upset my mother but I shall only love someone I chose to, not someone I am told to, and since I shall only marry someone I love, I shall not marry you." Not even four years old and already so opinionated. As a child I hadn't known what to make of it, I'd only ever lived in society where men made the decisions and woman went along with that.

"Okay," I'd eventually managed to come up with.

"You're not upset?" she'd asked, seeming surprised.

"No." I was being truthful, I wasn't upset, I didn't care if she wanted to love me or not, I was only four years old and in truth neither of us had any inkling of love or what it meant, but the idea was more that she was going against her mother's wishes and making her own decisions, which confused me more than I'd care to admit.

"Oh good. It's nothing personal. Plus I'm going to marry a prince with blond hair and live in a castle."

"Okay," I'd said again. And then we began to play at being Narnian animals, as though everything was totally normal.

It took me a few years of these repeated summers to come to respect Tanya. In front of everyone else she was as a woman was expected to be, submissive quiet and unargumentative, but around me she opened up, and in time whilst I was always measured and reserved around everyone else I began to open up with her.

If I had met Tanya as I knew her now later in life I probably could have loved her, but having known her since we were so young I couldn't accept her in that way. Though, if I had met her later in life, then I would probably not have been on the receiving end of so many of her rants and opinions, as she would never have gotten as comfortable around me as she was now. And those rants and opinions were what made her different from so many others. My sister in law Rosalie ranted, but she was almost too forward.

I wanted a woman who would act properly in public but with whom I could have decent conversation, someone I could argue with, debate with, discuss with. I wanted someone with something between their ears who would be someone my family would deign suitable for my status. And of course she'd have to be beautiful. Tanya was all of these things, especially beautiful. She had a luxurious waterfall of golden hair and a figure that put even Rosalie's to shame. Rosalie was referred to as a witch by some due to her looks, but Tanya was even more… _more_ than Rosalie. The main difference was their height; Tanya was smaller whereas Rosalie was almost as tall as me. For whatever reason, Tanya's shortness seemed to make her even more feminine. But despite the fact I could acknowledge all of this about my cousin, something in me just knew that I shouldn't be with her, and that I could never love her in the way that a man should love his wife, love his woman.

Tanya was someone I could have talked to for hours behind closed doors, but who would have played the part of a dutiful wife well in public, and I wanted that. But her perfectly curled mane of blond hair did not give me the urge to stroke it, her beautiful, definite curves did not make me want to run my hands up and down them, feeling the grooves of her waist and back. I had no fire for her, no passion.

According to the majority of the old philosophers, Tumnas, Peter, Corrin, passion was an over rated thing, they believed that marriage should be intellectual. A smart match of minds. And Tanya and I would have been a smart match of minds, but that wasn't enough for me, I wanted more. I wanted intellect, I wanted someone whose mind I could love, but I wanted that consuming need too, that need to have that one other person by your side forever. I wanted to love someone mind, body and soul. It was a lot to ask, but it wasn't too much, it couldn't be too much, all I had to do was look around the table I was seated at just now for proof of that.

My brother Emmett and his wife Rosalie sat together, her arguing about the things he was passing for her to eat and him sometimes giving in and other times ignoring her. Alone this couple proved to me, more than any other, that everyone could find love. Rosalie was vain, spoilt, and a bit ridiculous. She appreciated nothing and cared for very little. Emmett was slightly better than she was but he was tactless, lazy and self centered. But they had love. Together they worked. You only had to look at them to see their love. Sure, Rose complained a lot and Emmett had to spank her pretty damn often to make her mind, and he grumbled about her lack of obedience plenty, but they loved one another with every fiber of their being, with everything that they had and were. They didn't deserve love, deserve that level of happiness. They weren't angels, they weren't perfect, they weren't saints, they didn't always make all the right decisions. And to gain the happiness that they had you'd think that you'd have to be, and that you would, but they weren't and didn't. But they had found one another. Found someone to love them, unconditionally, despite all their faults. Someone who would do anything for them. And I was jealous.

My sister Alice (who was technically my twin but had been born a minute before midnight and therefore liked to claim that she had a different birthday, purely for the excuse of an extra party) sat by her husband Jasper. Alice was sweet, gentle and slightly over excited the majority of the time, but she was loveable. Sometimes. Jasper was quiet, calm, thoughtful and caring. And he loved her. Always. They, too, suited each other perfectly. With Alice and Jasper you didn't even need to have them looking at one another to see it. Even when they had their backs turned they were in perfect harmony. It was as though they were always connected. But they were good people, pure people, unlike Emmett and Rose, and they deserved happiness, deserved to have that person who would know them better than they knew themselves. But that couldn't stop me still coveting what they had, still wanting it, still being jealous.

Jealousy, my father had once told me, was not a feeling to be entertained. Jealousy had to be driven out, expelled. My father had an iron will, like nothing or nobody I'd ever seen before, or ever would see. And my mother, his wife, Esme, was gentler than anything that had ever existed, never wanting to say no or upset anyone. Together they made the perfect set of parents, Carlisle the upstanding father, whose respect you sought to earn, Esme the loving mother, who would hold you close and make all your problems go away. We sought approval from our father and nurturing from our mother. Carlisle laid down the law in his ever calm, diligent and omnipresent way, and Esme made you feel alright about it. They were two separate beings, who together made one perfect whole. Two halves that fitted together, a perfectly balanced scale. They were a team, there could never be one without the other. Their love was older, more mature, more comfortable and defined. But it proved the strength of love. The longevity of it. It proved that love stood the test of time, and all the tests that were set within that time. And I had to thank their love for that, for setting that example for me. For setting that standard for me. For letting me know what I could aspire to, what was possible.

Tanya kept her eyes down at the table, allowing me to fill her plate for her as was custom. And as was custom she would have eaten anything I put on the plate, but she'd chew my ear off about it later if I gave her anything she didn't like.

"So," I asked her after I was certain no one within hearing distance was bothering to listen to us, "How is love going these days?"

She kept her head down but laughed "If anything had happened Edward, you know I would have told you immediately." Tanya and I wrote to each other at least once a week, often more.

"Fair enough, just checking to see there's nothing you're not telling me," I laughed.

"There's plenty I don't tell you Edward, though mainly because it is too mundane for words or because I think you'll have no interest in it. However, rest assured, should I ever find love, you'll be the first person I tell," she replied, rolling her eyes.

"I'm honored," I smirked at her, earning myself a sharp kick under the table.

"Why do you ask anyway Edward, anything you're not telling me?"

"Hardly, Tanya, you are told more details of my life than anyone in their right mind would care to listen to as it is, and there is nothing new to report."

"No developments on the Isabella situation then?"

I shook my head in answer.

The Isabella situation. Right now there wasn't even really a situation, never mind developments on it. Isabella Swan, future high queen of Narnia, Empress of the Lone Islands, daughter of my father's best friend King Charles, didn't even know I existed. Which was odd considering how close my father and the King were, but Carlisle had never introduced us. Since Queen Renee had died the King had stopped visiting us. He stayed more and more in Narnia and we saw him once a year on his official annual tour as King. This year his daughter was accompanying him, and I was due to meet her the day after next.

Carlisle said that Isabella was a quiet, reserved young woman who was slightly spoilt. He said that she was stubborn but could compromise if given very good reason, but that she demanded exceptionally good reason and even then wasn't easily brought round to the ideas of others. He said she was strong willed, which she would need to be, to be queen. He said many things. He said she had many traits that would make her a great Queen. But I wasn't convinced that any of these traits were what I wanted in my future wife.

Jasper had known her, said that her mother's death had altered her but that probably the right man could help her. Probably true love could be her savior. That in itself was an idea that I loved, not that I'd admit that to Jasper. But what were the chances that I would be that one who could save her? That I would be that one person, that one true love? That I would be her soul mate? A million to one. It was almost impossible. And if I failed her I would never forgive myself, even if the only thing I could have done not to fail was to not be myself. And there was no point in hating myself for being myself…

As for the fact that she was a spoilt brat, Jasper said it was nothing a good spanking, or a few regular good spankings wouldn't cure. Carlisle concurred with this view, said that if her father had spanked her when she was younger she probably wouldn't be such a brat today. It wasn't that I was against the idea of spanking my wife if she needed it, providing a woman with discipline when it was needed was all part of taking proper care of her needs, all of her needs, but if your wife was the High Princess, the future Queen, was turning her across your lap for a spanking really acceptable?

Who, in that relationship, would be in control? Being my Queen she would be above me always, and even if I did marry her she would be High Queen whereas I would only ever be King, not High King. But that would only be for official purposes, within the marriage I would still be husband and therefore –

Why was I working out the details of a marriage I would probably never be in?

"So you like the sound of her?" Tanya pressed.

"I don't know Tan, but she's the future Queen and I'm merely a Lord, even if I did like her I am not allowed to ask her to marry me, she must ask me, and if the future High Queen asks you to marry her, is that really a question, do you really have a choice? Do you have the option of refusing your Queen? And if not then what kind of a marriage is that?"

The rant came out of me quickly and more passionately than I'd intended and she raised an eyebrow at me before rearranging her features and answering light heartedly, "A marriage of convenience?"

"You're funny," I said sarcastically in response to her glowing smile and sunny laugh.

"Oh I know, I'm highly witty," she smiled serenely.

"If you're going to be rude to me when I'm your male elder I'll get you orange pie for dessert," I mock threatened her, trying to look serious, whilst I prodded her in the ribs underneath the table, a spot I knew she was ticklish in.

"Don't you dare Edward Cullen!" she almost shrieked at me, due to the tickling or the horror at the idea of orange pie I wasn't entirely sure.

Emmett whipped his head round in amazement at her and I had to work to keep my face neutral. I didn't think Emmett had ever heard her talk so loud. Tanya straightened her face and kept her eyes down, playing the part of a submissive woman very convincingly until Emmett turned back to Rosalie and his dinner and she then decided to give me my second kick of the night under the table.

"Strawberry tart then?" I murmered.

"Whatever you wish dear cousin," she smiled at me, above the table being a vision of womanly gentleness.

After dinner was over and the dancing well underway I was just beginning to relax and enjoy some quiet time with my own thoughts, which consisted mainly of Isabella Swan and the meeting that was to occur in two days time, when Emmet came stumbling over, drunk on far too much wine.

"Edward!" he cried, slapping me on the back, "My innocent, ickle, virgin baby brother!"

"Emmett please," I snapped coldy.

It was not a case of me being the only one Tanya could ever let her guard down with, the situation was true in reverse, she was the only person I ever relaxed around. Emmett relaxed far too much and since the Queen's death our Father spent most of his time in Narnia, leaving me to be the only responsible man in the house until Jasper had married Alice, and by then I was so used to the role that I didn't entirely know how to shrug it off.

"Oh lighten up Edward" Emmett sang out, punching me on the arm, "I am here to tell you that your troubles are over. I have found you the perfect gift, brother. And it is waiting for you, in your room! Now! Follow me!"

He spun quickly, almost falling from the combination of speed, spin and wine.

I grimaced and shut my eyes. This would be the slave Alice had talked of. I had no use nor patience for slaves. I found them to be uneducated and useless in the ways of work due to the lack of education, and useless in the ways of companionship due the lack of conversation that was again due to the lack of education. Still, despite their lack of education I did not believe it to be right for people, even useless ones, to be owned by others. No, the slave trade was something I had very little time for.

Rosalie came to Emmett's side and laid her arm on his, steadying him.

"Edward, the quicker you let him show you this present the quicker I can get him to bed," she said crisply.

"Fine," I snapped, standing. I never let my family see me as anything other than cold, and even though the tenderness Rose had just shown in the way she supported and cared for my brother made me want to smile I managed not to, I had gone so long without showing emotion that I wasn't quite sure how my siblings would react if I ever did, not that I ever intended to.

In truth I was glad to go, I was tired of the party. I did not enjoy them as a general rule and with Tanya having been taken to the dance floor my Michael Newton as soon as the dinner was over I was finding the conversation to be less than stimulating.

"I'll bade everyone good night from you brother," Alice popped up next to Rosalie.

"And why, exactly, would you do that?" I asked her indifferently.

"Once you see her you won't want to leave your room," Emmett grinned sloppily, then clapped his hands over his mouth, looking scared, "Ooops! I ruined the surprise!"

He bit his lip looking remorseful, my brother was fairly amusing at most times and when drunk more than anyone else I knew. Possibly because Emmett was basically 300lbs of pure muscle.

"Alice told him earlier anyway," Rosalie informed him.

"What about my new bed slave!" he roared.

"The Narnian?" I clarified with my siblings.

"Yes," Alice stated simply.

"Alice!" Emmett thundered at my twin.

"Emmett Alice has already been spanked today so don't go getting any ideas," Jasper's calm voice with its thick Narnian accent entered the conversation as he appeared behind Alice, not putting his arms round her or holding her, but at the same time showing that they were together without so much as even needing to look at one another or feel one another.

"I think Emmett's too drunk to spank her anyway," Rosalie pointed out.

I agreed with her but said nothing. I was too busy thinking of how to get rid of this slave. I always got rid of them. I wanted a woman's body that meant something to me. Not a slave woman's used goods.

I had been given several slaves before, but there had only been one I had any interest in. And I had stopped myself from being interested the minute I realized there was any interest at all. I had asked Rosalie to fetch me a gown that would make any woman, even the infamously beautiful Rosalie Hale look ugly, and she had returned to me with a wrinkled brown sackcloth of a gown. As soon as the slave had put it on all the lust I had felt quickly stopped. My standards were high and if they were not met then I lost all interest.

I had kept the dress though, but I highly doubted that I would ever need it again. The slave in question's beauty had been as high as I believed it possible for one to be.

It was purely because I was bored of the party that I found myself following Emmett out of the party with my siblings to go see the woman that he had picked for me.

"She really is quite beautiful," Alice smiled widely.

"Alice we have discussed the beauty of slaves already today," I reminded her. I would not have slaves be thought of as beautiful, I didn't agree with the slave trade but if they were to be there then they would know infinitely that they were slaves and that they were to work, not be thought of as beautiful.

She sighed at me. My twin wanted me to fall in love, marry, give her a new sister and plenty of nieces and nephews.

"Honestly, Edward, I actually think you'll like her," Jasper cut in, "There's something about her that's different to the usual muck you get brought in from Gliftin. She's not your typical slave, she's almost dignified, proud."

"So she'll do about a tenth of the work she's meant to then," I replied.

"She'll be wonderful for you, Edward. She is dignified and proud, that's why I chose her," Emmett grinned, drunkenly staggering from side to side as we progressed along the corridor, "Gave Gliftin some amount of back talk, thought that would suit you, spirited and strong willed. Since our submissive little Tanya holds no interest I thought I'd find one that would sass you. Plus, I couldn't stand to see the little lamb get whipped anymore. Honestly, Edward, you've got your work cut out with her, you'll need to spank her often to make her mind, but if you decide to beat her in the slave's way make sure I'm not there. She's got the cleverest brown eyes you ever saw. She reminded me of you Ed, her face, she's so blank and impassive and emotionless, she hides her thoughts and emotions well, but her eyes give her away. Not for any length of time but you see, fleetingly, something in them that betrays her. And they're sad eyes. And I can't stand to see anymore sadness in them, even for a moment. If she needs to be beaten don't mark her back, please, Edward."

I took a moment to compose myself as I listened to my brother nearly well up into tears. True he was drunk but he was speaking more seriously than he ever usually did and it was making me feel sorry for the slave. And feeling sorry for a slave was not a good thing, it did no one any good.

"And what do you suggest I should do, turn her over my knee as if she were my equal in society?"

"Oh I don't know," moaned Emmett, wringing his hands, "But please, Edward, please don't beat her back. She's educated you know…" He trailed off looking despairingly at the floor.

"Oh shut up Emmett I personally think the slave needs to be beaten, she's got a horrid coltish nature that needs to be broken," Rosalie snapped. She probably just didn't like seeing Emmett appear to get upset over another woman, especially not a slave.

"She'd got a beautifully opinionated nature," Alice said dreamily, "I think she and I shall be great friends."

"Which is exactly what Edward needs in a woman," Emmett smiled suddenly, perking up.

"In a woman maybe but not in his bed slave," Rosalie sniped.

"Stop arguing or I'll turn you up and spank you!" Emmett turned on her.

Rose crossed her arms and glared at him, her face flushing. Emmett's spankings consisted on him turning her across his lap and tapping her a few times firmly on the backside and they didn't seem much to bother Rose. In fact I was pretty sure the embarrassment of being turned up across his knee and being suspended there completely helpless like a child was more of a punishment for Rose than the actual spanking, as was any mention of the fact it happened. One thing she couldn't stand was to be embarrassed. If he decided to beat her then it was a different story. Emmett's beatings were rare and if she pushed him to the point he gave her one then she was really in for it, and she truly deserved it. I had only gotten one once from Emmett whilst our parents had been in Narnia. I remembered it well. I remembered I ate meals standing up for a week and I remembered being outraged when Carlisle and Esme had returned from Narnia and I got no sympathy. I had been outraged. But now that I was older I realized just how much I must have deserved it if I had pushed my elder brother into it.

"Jasper and I will leave you now," Alice tugged on Jasper's hand, "Give you a bit of privacy."

"Since when were you bothered about my privacy?" I stonily asked my twin.

"I think you two could have a moment," she smiled at me before disappearing down the corridor. I glared at her retreating back. Have a moment? With a slave? As if!

As I watched her go Emmett had thrown open the door and when I turned back my breath caught in my throat. For a moment my heart stopped beating. Every part of me, inside and out, seemed at once to freeze, to stop, to cease to exist, but also to go into overdrive. It was as though something flowed through my being. Something warm and comforting. And something cold and harsh. Something that felt so natural it was as if I'd known it all my life, and something that felt alien and strange and wrong and scary and new.

Something unknown that I couldn't decide if I liked or not. Something I didn't know if I wanted to proceed with or not, but that grabbed me, took over me. It latched onto my very core and suddenly I was going where it was going, where this feeling was going, with no say in the matter.

It was, I imagine, like being electrocuted. And she was the cause of the electricity.

Sitting there with her nose in a book. My book. I couldn't see what book it was but she had touched it and I would treasure it.

She was an angel. An electric angel. She glowed, she hummed, she had a pulsing all around her. She was magnificent. She was electricity. She was like a fork of lightening, coming across a black sky, illuminating what had always been in darkness.

She was lightening.

Dangerous, beautiful lightening.


	2. Lightening Struck, Love Struck

**Chapter 2. Lightning Struck, Love Struck.**

"**It was love at first sight, at last sight, at ever and ever sight."**

**-Lolita, Nabokov**

"Here she is brother, your gift from me!" Emmett announced, causing the angel to jump, scaring her. I wanted to take her in my arms, cradle her, hold her, comfort her, protect her. Something inside me was roaring, I wanted to hurt Emmett. I would make sure no one ever spoke to my angel like this.

No. No. I didn't care about her. I wouldn't care about her.

The book went flying out her hand, but she reached out and caught it just in time before rounding on Emmett, furious, "Didn't your mother ever tell you not to sneak up on people? Look at this!" She brandished it at my brother. 'Queen Lucy the Valiant' by Tumnas the Faun. One of my favorites. She was perfect, even down to her book taste. Tumnas was one of my favorite authors whose books were all history centered round ancient Narnia. I was fascinated by Narnia, and especially its history. And her. She was Narnian. I was fascinated by her.

No. I couldn't be. She was a slave. My slave. I'd make sure she knew that.

She was still shouting at my huge older brother, "You almost made me drop the book and if you think-" Oh by the name of Aslan I loved her. And I needed not to. I needed her to hate me, that would make it easier. I'd need to be a cold and cruel master. And I needed to shut her up. This tiny, delicate creature standing up to my giant older brother was making me admire her, to admire her character and gusto. And that wasn't possible. She was my slave. And she needed to know that. And I needed to know that. So I did the only thing I could think of, I stopped her talking by slapping her face.

The sound echoed round my chamber, over and over and over, confirming infinitely what I'd just done. No backing out now. I ripped my book from her hands and rearranged my features into my usual blank canvas, only allowing a small smattering of malice and threat to show. I'd scare her into hating me. If she knew what was good for her she'd hate me.

"A book which you should not have been touching in the first place," I hissed at her, in the most evil voice I could. I regretted it, immediately. Her face where I had slapped her was bright red and her eyes widened as I hissed. Those eyes flinched away from my voice as though it to had slapped her. I was a monster.

No, I was her master, and I would treat her as I saw fit to treat a slave. I was not known for leniency. I was set in my ways and if things weren't done exactly how I wanted then I would beat a slave without thinking twice about it. But I could never do that to her. I understood why Emmett had pleased with me not to. Did that make me less of a man? Less of a master? If I could not treat my slaves the same.

I would beat this girl, if only to prove to myself that I could. I didn't want to. She looked soft, delicate. If she disobeyed me I'd be tempted to turn her over my lap and give her a spanking, no doubt about it, but there was something about beating something so soft that I didn't like. But I would do it. She would hate me. She would fear me. I would make sure of it. Because my mind was made up. And it would be better for both of us that way. We stared into each other's eyes, hers fiery and hot and mine cold and hating, breaking away only when Emmett's voice interrupted us.

"Told you brother, you'll get on well with her. She'll not role over and play submissive slave for you easily. You'll need to break her in. Thought you'd enjoy that though." Emmett grinned at me, oblivious to the electrical charge I felt pulsing through the room. I'd turn that pulse to hatred. Emmett was wrong, I wouldn't break her in. I'd break her.

Emmett left the room, shouting for Rosalie, who I knew was right outside the door.

I turned to the girl. She held her head high, I'd give her that. But in a slave it was not something I'd respect. It was just a challenge. I remembered leaving Alice's room earlier; hearing her shout on someone called Bella as soon as I'd shut the door. This must be her. Bella. As in beautiful. Which she was, in the Narnian way, I couldn't deny that. But I'd strip her of her clothes, put her in slave's dress and she'd be just the same as the rest of them. I hoped.

"I have no need for a slave that helps herself to my things," I told her. I would get the rules set out now, right from the outset.

I was not expecting an answer, it was not a question and didn't require one, so I almost went into shock when she answered, icily and clipped, "That's fine for I have a great interest in your books and none in being your slave."

If she had been a woman I'd have admired her, but she wasn't, she was just a slave. I'd convince myself of it if it killed me.

But she was a slave. She was my slave and I'd teach her, I'd show her. I slapped her again, controlling it so I didn't use all my strength and hurt her too much, but enough that she got the point, enough that she'd shut up and do as she was told, make it easier for both of us, I could feel my temper starting to show on my face, but I covered it. I always was good at covering everything.

"I did not give you permission to speak," I snapped at her.

She opened her mouth and I braced myself to need to slap her again, but her eyes travelled over my face and she shut it again without a word. I wasn't sure what she'd seen, but even when I let the amount of anger I was showing now cross my face in front of my siblings none of them noticed. Surely she couldn't have noticed.

But her eyes didn't leave mine and her pupils, large and dark black circles surrounded my beautiful brown pools, continued to dart over my face. I felt like she was seeing a bit too much, I needed to stop it; this eye contact was making me uncomfortable.

"Do not stare at my face, lower your eyes unless instructed to do otherwise in my presence." Aslan, I sounded like… like an ass. I hated me. But it had to be done.

But still she didn't look away. She continued to drink in the details of my face. Then her eyes locked on mine, emerald green and chocolate brown mixing, fizzing into a cocktail of sparks and lightening and… I couldn't stand it. She would learn.

I swiftly boxed her ears, allowing her to fall swaying to one side before bringing her sharply back up, maybe about 3 or 4 slaps to each side.

It wasn't going to be enough. I was going to beat her. Hard.

"Tomorrow you will feel my riding crop on your flesh. For now I wish to sleep."

That was it; there was no way she'd answer back now. She'd realize now, any sensible, normal slave would have long ago, especially if dealing with me. I was known for my discipline.

But no, this one wouldn't.

"Fine by me, have someone show me to my room."

I had to laugh. I controlled it, making sure it came out like more of a bark, but I couldn't stop it altogether. I didn't want to admire her tossed head and superior attitude but I did. It was the exact kind of attitude I had always been waiting to find in a woman. It was all I could do not to shake my head in disbelief.

"You'd think you were my equal in society the way you carry on," I told her, then pointed to the corner that I could see clearest from my bed, "You'll sleep on the floor, over there in the corner."

In truth I had had no plan as to where she was to sleep, but now seemed as good a time as any. In the past the few slaves I had kept had been sent down to the servants corners but I didn't want this girl out of my sight. It was a weakness. I would triumph over her; improve myself by triumphing over the temptation she provided to me. I didn't trust her willful nature if she was sent to the servants' quarters. She would probably try to escape. And I didn't want her to escape. And I didn't want her away from me.

"I have no bed dresses to sleep in. When one decides to go out walking one does not usually pack for a change of address, just in case some ridiculous group of imbeciles decides to capture one."

I felt a slight twinge of remorse; the slave trade was technically against the law. But it wasn't my fault the law wasn't enforced. It was one of the things, if I did end up marrying the future Queen, that I did intend to do something about. It was my father who was to blame for me wanting to fix so much, I supposed. My father and I were close, very close, and his high moral standards and calm, closed off, controlled demeanor were things he had passed on to me.

I had always let my slaves go; kept them long enough to fit in with the way things were, but let them go. But with her… my moral standards were going out the window. I didn't know if I could let her go.

Oh how I wanted to cross the room to her and take her in my arms. She had started her statement full of guile but as she tried more and more to spit out the words the quieter her voice got. She was close to tears; I could see that, hear that in her voice. I didn't know how to feel. I should have felt maliciously victorious, I wanted to feel maliciously victorious, I had broken this new slave, which was what I had wanted to do.

But instead… I couldn't explain it. I was almost, in some twisted unexplainable way, proud. But not in a twisted, malicious way. In a twisted, strange way. She seemed to have accepted that I was to be obeyed, but her spirit was still there. She was not broken, not by any manner of means, but it was as though, just for those few moments, some subconscious part of her had decided to submit to me.

Fiery, but with some deep ridden, unacknowledged submissive part of her, waiting to be for me to nurture and control her fire so that it could grow in a safe environment. Waiting for me to let her run wild and free, and waiting at times for me to tame her. Something stirred in my groin and I was glad for the loose fitting style of tunic that I wore.

I wanted to smile, to shout that she had been what I'd been waiting for all along, but I reigned myself in. I wouldn't forget her place, or mine. "Not so headstrong now, are you? Sleep naked."

She stood in silence, her perfect little heart shaped mouth hanging open, astounded. Her head, despite the tremor in her voice and her obvious dumbfoundment at the current moment, was still held un-naturally high. And I didn't even mean un-naturally high for a slave, I just meant un-naturally high. Even the way she spoke and walked, everything in her demeanor was dignified, controlled. She seemed to be wound almost as tightly as me. But still, she was a slave. Obviously she was just some common Narnian, possibly an only child, brought up to think she was better than she was. She was just spoiled and willful, and I would fix that.

"I can hardly sleep naked on the floor of your room," she eventually replied.

Naked. My groin strained uncomfortably at the idea.

"If you protest one more time I'll make you sleep naked outside in the stables and you'll leave your clothes here before you go to them," I warned her. I half wished I had made this my idea from the beginning; she would be more comfortable in the stables with the straw and hay bales. And it would give me privacy to deal with the literally rather pressing problem located in my crotch. But still there was something carnal inside me that refused to let what was my property get paraded about. And her, naked, was my property. She'd learn that.

She already seemed to have half realised this; she set off towards the corner I'd pointed to earlier. The pride swelled in me again.

I wanted to encourage her, reward her. But I wouldn't. Instead I taunted her with her obedience, I could tell, from the way she held herself, that she would see her obedience to me as a weakness, so I played on that.

"Well done," I allowed my voice to taunt at her, sing song, laughing at her. Now I would have a definite name to call her, "Now, Bella," I tested, "It is Bella isn't it?"

I hoped it was Bella. It suited her. I was going to call her Bella even if it wasn't her name.

"Yes, Edward, it is" she spat my name out like it was a filthy word, but that didn't stop me loving the fact that my name was coming out her mouth. She couldn't be allowed to use it; it made me feel… too much. And she would learn not to speak to me in that voice or she would learn there were consequences for doing so. If she had been anyone other than a common slave I would have loved that a woman spoke to me in such a manner, but I would not permit it from her.

"Well, firstly, do not speak to me in that tone of voice. Secondly, I did not give you permission to use my name. And," I paused before going on to the last item of business, "I believe I ordered you to sleep naked."

I half wished I had never demanded that of her, I was as hard as a rock as it was, I didn't need her body naked in the room to give me a physical visual as well as a mental visual.

But I had demanded it of her now; I wasn't going to back down. My own discomfort would be endured for the sake of adding to hers.

She stood facing the wall of the corner for a while. It was strange, had she come to me other than as a slave I would have probably spanked her over my lap and then sent her to that same corner to stand in several times, but she was a slave. I would beat her and leave her. When I punished her it would not be lovingly done, I would not hold her nor take care of her afterwards. I had promised her my riding crop the following morning, and that was all the feeling she would get from me, the physical pain.

I stood, breathing in and out, trying not to think about the fact that this delectable creature would soon be naked in front of me and that if that happened and I hadn't dealt with the problem in my trousers then I was possibly going to come right there and then standing in that exact spot.

Oh Aslan, I needed her to hurry up so I could go fix it!

"Well, what are you waiting for Bella?" I snapped at her, "Strip. I cannot have you sleeping in that gown."

"There are no covers," she answered in a small voice, "I shall be cold."

Exactly. There were no covers, no pillows, nothing. She would be lying naked and totally exposed in the corner of my bed chamber. I struggled to suppress the moan that threatened to escape my lips at that thought.

"Do not test my patience," I growled, warning her. And don't test the patience of my cock before it would go off either. I was quiet, controlled, but growling.

She reached up and started to undo the buttons at the back of her gown.

And its patience had run out. The problem was no longer rock hardness, but now more like sticky waterfall wetness coating the inside of my garments. Great. Nobody had even touched it, I hadn't even touched anyone else, and it had exploded into its very own fireworks display. This never happened.

I didn't know what to do. I never lost control enough not to know what to do. I never lost control enough that I came without warning.

I crossed the room silently and got into bed, watching as she slipped the dress down so it puddled round her feet. She was standing there in just her undergarments. Aslan save me, I shut my eyes tightly, trying to block her out, I was starting to get hard again, and I didn't even think that was possible. No, it apparently was.

I opened my eyes, she was standing staring at the wall, motionless, and completely, totally, utterly naked. I stared at the strong smooth curve of her back, nipping tightly in at her waist then flaring down and out over her delightfully rounded hips and backside. That was the kind of figure the old poets wrote sonnets over, slim but with curves, her breasts, from what I had gathered when she had her dress on, were well matured, heavy and heaving without being too large, her stomach and waist were small and flat, and then she rounded back out again, perfectly as women should, her derrière was pert, high, and round, and her thighs and hips were shapely, rounded, soft and jiggly, but still firm enough that they weren't saggy.

Aslan, she was beautiful.

She stayed that way for just over half an hour, I could see the small, minute trembling in her body. I wanted to go over and take her in my arms, lead her to my bed, tuck her up safe and warm. But I wouldn't. And despite the trembling, and the fact she was naked, she kept that head of hers tossed, her nose in the air. And I…

She turned ever so slightly and I quickly shut my eyes, feigning sleep. I heard her let out a sharp breath. She was probably enraged with me. It might make things easier for both us, because, Aslan as my witness, this beautiful, electric, dangerous fork of lightening had struck me, and for that moment I had suffered a power cut. Until I recharged, got my power back on, I was useless. I was lightening struck, I was love struck. And I was useless. I would have to change.


	3. Attempted Hatred

Chapter 3. Attempted Hatred.

"_**And mostly I hate the way I don't hate you, not even close... not even a little bit... not even at all."**_

_**-10 Things I Hate About You**_

I tossed and turned the entire night. I would have to change. I was going to change. By the time I was done changing she'd run as far as the land of Telmar, run to Rosalie's country, just to get away from me.

Every time I eventually would get to sleep I'd dream of beating her and having her break down and look up at me with those great brown eyes, pleading with me, begging me to stop and then I'd awake with a sickening jolt of horror, thinking of myself as a monster, dying with shame.

And why should I need to feel like that over a dream? I would beat her, I was decided on that, and I would not allow myself to feel remorse over it. She was my slave and we would both adhere to that... It would seem I would have to overcome myself before I could conquer her. She was in my head so much that I even dreamt of her? It would not do. I would conquer myself, my conscious and my sub-conscious. If I could not sleep without dreaming of her then I would not sleep, it was that simple. I was a disciplined man with myself even more so than with others. I needed to be in control, always. I would not stand for losing my control.

I rose and dressed quickly and quietly. It was still dark outside but I headed into the gardens anyway. Many of the plants and flowers in our extensive gardens had been imported from Narnia, mostly at my request, although Esme, my mother, had been behind some of them. I stared into the rose garden, each of the roses named for a Narnian King or Queen. Isabella would, on her coronation, have a rose named for her, it was tradition. She was supposed to break the traditions though, that was the prophesy, that she would return Narnia to its former glory.

Her Royal Highness, the High Queen Isabella Swan. I was due to meet her tomorrow. The main attraction was her position; if I married her I'd be able to help Narnia, to help her restore it to its former glory. It was also, however, the most off putting thing about the whole arrangement.

I sighed and ran my fingers agitatedly through my hair. I didn't know what to do. And what was more; I couldn't stop thinking about her. About Bella. As soon as I realised I was doing it, I'd stop, try to think of something else, but somehow my mind had a way of working her into every single thought I had.

I loved Narnia. Bella was Narnian.

If I married Isabella I'd have input to the Narnia, be in a position of power to help it grow. If I ended up with Bella we could live in Narnia and I could get a position within the Narnian Court, Carlisle Cullen was, after all, both my father and the King's best friend, surely that granted me something?

No, no, no. I would marry Isabella, not Bella, I wouldn't, couldn't, even consider Bella. It would be inappropriate.

Isabella would be hard to be married to, she was arrogant, spoiled and self centred from what people seemed to say about her, and that wasn't so much the problem, but would I be able to discipline her in the way that the culture I had been brought up with dictated I should? Whereas with Bella I could teach her, mold her, not tame her, but give her rules so that that wild, passionate, fiery spirit of hers could manifest in spectacular, beautiful ways, not in ways that made her act like a five year old.

This wasn't working, time to switch to a whole other topic.

I was going to ride to the boat with Tanya and her family after breakfast to see her off. It was a shame Tanya hadn't met Bella; she seemed like the sort of person Tanya would like.

That afternoon I was going hunting with my brothers, just for dumb beasts, of course, not the talking Narnian beasts. I'd need to make sure I told Bella of this, in case she thought we were barbaric in that way. She'd be hungry; she hadn't eaten all day yesterday as far as I was aware. Well, what did I care? Let her starve! Let her think I was barbaric!

If I didn't find that I could love Isabella, or even stand her at all, when I met her tomorrow I could just marry someone else, quickly, so that marriage to Isabella would be an impossibility. Bella... No! Tanya. I'd marry Tanya. I didn't love her properly but I did love my cousin dearly, probably more than anyone else outside my immediate family. And Bella. Tanya would make a good wife, and she was exceptionally beautiful. Our union would be a good one, for everyone. But Bella was beautiful, perhaps even more so and although –

"You're up early," a lilting voice interrupted my train of thought and I looked up gratefully at Tanya, delighted by her presence. Now I would have to concentrate on conversation, and I would not bring Bella up, I promised myself that. Although I could not suppress her from my thoughts I could stop my mind physically speaking of her.

"Cousin," I stood and greeted Tanya warmly, gratefully, taking her in my arms and squeezing tight. Tanya and Bella were probably around the same height, I mused, as I hugged Tanya before sitting back down on the bench. She lay down next to me, her head in my lap and we interlocked our gingers, unconsciously, absentmindedly.

"The same could be said for yourself," I smiled down at her.

"Couldn't sleep that well," she answered.

"And again we find we share the same traits." I chose not to go into the details of why I had not slept well, I had promised I would not speak of her, and Tanya seemed not to want to elaborate.

I absentmindedly stroked my thumb up and down Tanya's tiny hand as I considered how we were when we were together. We sat in amicable silence, knowing the other would talk when they were ready. We were comfortable around one another, more comfortable probably than we were around anyone else. If it really came to it, could I marry Tanya? I probably could, and we'd be happy.

But it remained that no one had ever had the effect Bella had on me. And so immediately.

It was like a magnetic pull or something, like I was designed to correspond with her. And it would never happen, we would never be together, I would never let that happen. But this was how you were supposed to feel about someone when you were going to be with them. And what were the chances I'd feel like this about the future High Queen when I met her tomorrow? And what were the chances she'd return the feeling, share it, even if I did feel it? I felt it for Bella, but she clearly did not feel it for me. I could tell that. The rareness of the feeling, coupled with the rareness of the feeling being mutual meant that there was about a one in a million chance that tomorrow would prove favourable.

Would I ever get to feel this way again about someone other than Bella? Had I resisted offers of marriage this long to end up in a loveless marriage that I could have resigned myself to years ago if I had wanted it? Or were the old philosopher right, was this feeling one that was supposed to grow, develop, over time? But even if it were so, how could developing this feeling ever compare with being hit with it, knocked over by it upon sight of someone? Why, in the name of Aslan, why did I need to be condemned to feel this way about Bella? Why did I need to feel this way about someone I needed to make hate me so that I could deal with my feeling? Why did I have to feel this way about someone who caused me to hate this feeling, this one feeling I had always been desperate to feel even when I rejected losing control to any other feeling? And someone who caused me to want to hate her for making me feel this way about myself? But could I really hate her? Could I hate Bella? Was that possible?

"Hmm?" Tanya asked, looking up at me.

I turned my eyes down to meet hers, questioning without vocalising.

"You keep muttering 'Bella' and 'why' under your breath," she answered.

It was strange how connected Tanya and I were sometimes.

"I apologise, I did not realise I was thinking aloud."

She smiled, "What or who is Bella that weighs on your mind so pressingly that you vocalise it without realising?"

I had promised myself not to speak of her, "Nothing. It means nothing. Just one of my trains of thought, you know how I get."

She smiled up at me, "Of course."

Instantly I felt awful for lying to her, she knew everything about me, and often figured out my true reasons for things before even I did, just as I did for her. Tanya gave the best advice, and I trusted her beyond anyone except my father to take advice from. If I could have opened up and told her, she would have helped, but I didn't know how. It was the first time I had ever hidden anything from her, and I felt filthy. Aslan damn Bella for making me lie to my own cousin now also.

"It is getting light," I commented.

"Indeed, we should probably both head in soon," she agreed.

I ran the fingers of my right hand through her hair, massaging her head, "Five minutes?" I suggested, still squeezing her land in my left.

She just smiled at me, again communicating without needing to vocalise.

It seemed to me as if enough time had not yet passed when she began to sit up. I was comforted by her presence, and I relied on her more than was probably normal.

"Tanya," I began delicately, unsure of how to ask what I needed to.

"Edward?"

"I am due to meet Isabella Swan tomorrow, as you know…" I trailed off. I didn't know how to say what I needed to say, ask what I needed to ask.

"The strain it causes you shows when one knows how to read your face," she prompted me, telling me that she understood my feelings. I was grateful for that.

"The idea of marriage to one I don't love Tan, I, I do not know if I can stand it."

"Edward, there is little chance that upon meeting you tomorrow she is going to decide immediately that she wants to marry you," she said, gently.

"I know it. But I cannot deny the existence of the small chance that is there."

She nodded, "You always are meticulous."

"I must take," I paused, searching for the words, "precautions."

"Uhuh?"

"Tanya, you know how I would feel trapped in a marriage of convenience, as you yourself called it last night, if it came to it that she wished us be married and I felt that I could not stand her, would you be willing to marry me?"

"Edward, I-"

It was a selfish request, and I knew it, so I cut across her, "I need not you to fully marry me Tanya, but if we could be engaged and we could call it off before the wedding, just, please, do not condemn me to a loveless marriage, better no marriage than a loveless one, you see my point? I do not insist you marry me, nor physically indulge in the engagement rituals, I know how vehemently opposed you are, as much as I. But in pretending our engagement you would save me from the fate that we two will be saved from by calling our engagement off."

Tanya stood over me, whilst I sat still on the bench and I was somewhat unsure of how she was going to react to my question, but she took both my hands in hers and smiled at me, "Edward, if it were to help you I would marry you if you wanted. I would do anything for you. Besides, ours would not be a loveless marriage, for I do love you, dearly, Edward. Just not in that way, obviously."

I smiled and she laughed at the relief she must have seen all over my face.

"There was never a better cousin than you, Tan," I smiled, standing and kissing her smooth cheek before shoving her gently in the direction of the house.

"Oh, I know, I'm well aware of my greatness," she called loftily over her shoulder at me as she entered.

I smiled widely, but as my eyes travelled up to my own bedroom window my expression slowly faded. I had business to attend to this morning, promises I had made last night that I would not break.

Aslan give me strength, I would not break them.

I did not have the hatred in my body that I needed, and being with Tanya had drained what little resolve I did have. My cousin was fiery and spirited, but also so gentle it was hard for anyone around her to feel anger unless she felt it.

I was good at faking emotions and covering emotions, appearances were high on my list of priorities, I was realistic about the amount of judgement I would incur due to my appearance and a man had to always appear in control if he were to be highly regarded. However, I did not know how accurately I could fake hatred. The appearance of hatred I could easily show, but I could not make myself feel the emotion. Not fake it well enough to feel it enough to do what was needed.

But it was needed; it would remind her of her place and me of mine.

I crossed over to the stable and pulled it out of the area where my own riding things were kept. I fingered its length and swished it through the air. I would not enjoy this, but I would manage it. I would go to Rosalie. She had more hatred than anyone I knew or ever would know probably, if I could not soak some hatred off her then no one would have enough for me to absorb it. Besides, even if I could not take in her spare levels of hatred, Rosalie would feel such passionate hatred against the girl on the basis of her social standing that she would surely convince me in my heart and mind that what I had to do was right, and the belief would give me strength to do it. It was not that I did not believe myself, she had been inappropriate in her actions and words the night before, but…

I was being a coward. In truth, I needed Rosalie to goad me into doing it. And I knew that that would work.

I fingered it in my hands again. Dangerous. And it would strike accurately. Just like she was dangerous, how she had struck me, struck my heart. I would strike her heart. With fear.

As I thought about what lay ahead of me, about what I was about to do, my lungs constricted and my heart was struck with fear of what it would do to her mentally, would she ever recover? Could I do this and live with myself? Probably not, but I would do it anyway, no matter what it did to me.

I smashed it down on the hall of my stable, causing my horse to flinch at the sound it made.

I prayed to Aslan that I would find the strength to do it, that he would send me that strength through Rosalie.

My riding crop, it was what I had promised her.

* * *

So... please review? It makes me happyyyyy :)

Also - if you have specific questions you want answered or specific scenes that you really really really want to see in Edward's POV can you let me know via a review so that I can make sure I am definitely including everything that people are wanting and deifnitely answering and explaining as much as I can about Edward. It is appreciated muchos :) xxx


	4. Self Hatred

Chapter 4. Self Hatred.

"_**Hatred is self punishment"**_

_**-Hosea Ballou**_

I knocked, again, for the fourth time on my brother's chamber door.

"I'm up, I'm up, I'm coming," Emmett's groggy voice muttered from behind the wood, and I knew fine well that my brother was lying face down, sprawled over the bed and would not be out of it for some time yet.

"Emmett," I called out as best I could through gritted teeth, "I know fine well that you are neither out of bed nor ready to come anywhere, but those points are irrelevant, I merely wish to speak with Rosalie."

"What do you want with me, Edward?" Rosalie's voice snapped. I knew she would not be happy, Rosalie enjoyed sharing Emmett's bed, and would be loath to leave it, even for a moment, if she thought that staying there would lead to anything. Which in truth, no matter what Emmett had been drinking the night before, usually would happen.

"Just a quick word, I need your help with a... a delicate matter, Rosalie."

"What delicate matter?" she asked.

"How's Bella?" Emmett's voice entered the conversation before I had a chance to reply. A shiver ran down my spine at the mention of her name, so I erected my stance even taller, prouder. I would not give into these feelings, she would not make me weak. She would not make me fall for her anymore, I would not disgrace my family name by harbouring these feelings for her any longer. I would whip her harshly and she would hate me, despise me, and she'd run away. I would never see her again, and it would hurt, it would be agony, but in time I'd get over it until it was nothing but a dull ache in my heart that I would grow accustomed to. At least, I hoped I'd grow accustomed to it.

"She's fine. Rosalie, a word?"

"I don't know, I cannot be bothered moving."

"Rosalie, please." Although I said please, I was not really asking her anything, I was demanding.

"What is so important it need be discussed now?"

"Rosalie, it cannot wait!"

"What is it?"

"I don't wish to have the conversation through the door, either come out now or I'll come in there and drag you out," I snapped, losing patience. She may be about to be of some help to me, but I was above her, and I would have her remember that.

Her reply was smaller, quieter, though she still had bite in her voice, "Edward, I-"

Emmett cut across her, "Just go Rosalie, my head hurts and this constant shouting is not helping. Besides, the sooner you go the sooner you return."

I smiled. A difference between my sister in law and I was that, when angry, she shouted, I merely spoke. Well, until I truly lost my temper. But I had never truly felt anger to a degree that I felt the need to shout.

I heard them kiss and then a small silence before the door swung open.

"What?" she asked me, surliness dripping off her face, body language and speech.

"Good morning," I offered her, unsmiling.

"Morning," she snapped back.

"Do not use that tone with me."

She shifted her weight from foot to foot, her face still sarky, but said nothing.

"Rosalie, I wish to know how you feel about the majority of people you meet."

"I am indifferent."

"That is not true."

"Why do you wish to know this?"

"I just do."

"I... I do not like the majority of people I meet."

"Why not?"

"I just do not, I cannot explain it Edward, I am just not a people person I suppose,"

"Rosalie, what do you feel about Bella?"

Her face took on a new look, the surliness was replaced by pure hatred, and her voice dripped with venom, "That rat needs to be beaten, she is a... a... I do not have the word for her but in the name of Aslan I despise that filthy Narnian creature. I..."

She trailed off, shaking her head, muttering to herself.

"How do you feel about them that call you a witch?"

"They should be burned alive," her voice was low, dangerous.

"How do you feel such hatred for so many people?"

"HAVE I NOT REASON TO?" she screamed at me, her outburst causing every limb in her body to shake.

This was good, this was the mind set I needed to be in, the one that she was in now.

"I did not say that, but I need to hate someone, Rosalie, and I am usually too indifferent to care about anyone enough to hate them." I needed not to add in that the reason I could not hate her was because I was already, within less than a day, in love with her. And I couldn't do it, I needed to hate her. But I had controlled myself. No one would believe I felt anything other than cold indifference for Bella.

"What is going on? And why are you carrying your riding crop?" she snapped.

I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair, which I was sure was already hugely messy since I had done nothing with it since I got out of bed.

"I need to beat Bella," I said, quietly.

So quietly that she did not hear me, "What?" she asked me again.

"I need to beat Bella," I sighed, raising my voice so

"And?"

"Not a normal beating Rosalie, I need to give her the mother, no, the great great great grandmother of all beatings."

"Again – and?"

"I can't bring myself to do it."

She gaped at me, then laughed, "What exactly do you mean, you can't bring yourself to do it?"

This was what I had wanted, I reminded myself, I wanted her to goad me into it.

"She does not deserve the beating I need to give her, yet I need to give her it for my own personal reasons." It was half true, she deserved a beating for her actions and manner. But not a beating so harsh it would break her, make her run away.

She laughed again, disbelieving, "Edward, you and I both know that you have no problems handing out punishments that are not quite merited by the crimes committed. You always favour harsher punishments than necessary, so why with this... bitch... can you not?"

"Do my reasons matter?"

"I think they do."

"Rosalie, do not test my patience."

Test my patience Rosalie, go on, it's the one time I want you too so that I can take my anger at you out on someone else.

"Are you too weak Edward?" And there was a button right there, I could not stand to be called weak. A roaring started in my chest, but I said nothing.

"Are you weak, incapable of dealing with slaves? Can you not quite perform your dutiues?"

This was what I wanted, I had to keep reminding myself of it.

"What is it Edward, why?" she mocked me, "Is it her feminine charm, can you not resist her filthy slave beauty?"

Again, I said nothing, continuing just to stare at her.

"Can't even manage your own standards, Edward, what has the world come to?" her voice was cruel and biting, "Just yesterday you spanked Alice for saying that slaves are beautiful. What was it she said you said, 'No slave is beautiful'? Yes, I think that was it, Eddie. Can ickle Eddie not manage to beat his slave because he thinks she's too beautiful? Does he care for her feelings? Does she look too frail, too gentle for Edward to be able to carry out his own duties as a master? Is Edward too weak? Too pathetic?" She half sang the words at me, revelling in the mockage of me.

She seemed to have realised she could say what she wanted, usually by now I'd have whirled her round and landed a volley of furious, and none too gentle, smacks on her behind, but not today. No, though my hand was itching to do it, I was going to use this feeling to take it out on Bella. My anger was pulsing in my ears, I could feel it pounding through me.

She was still talking, still mocking me, when I cut across her, "Thank you Rosalie."

I spun on my heel and strode towards my room, the dresss, I needed that dress. I had been given it by Rosalie the last time I had a slave. It was a brown sack, it would make anyone look ugly, even the famous Rosalie Hale. And it would work for Bella too.

I threw the door open and marched to my drawers to pull out the offending garment, before crossing towards the corner in which she was still fast asleep.

Aslan, she was tiny, lying curled up, so innoce- No. I would not think that. I put my foot on her side and rolled her onto her stomach before raising the crop high in the air and bringing down on her thigh. She woke up with a small start but I paid no attention, I'd show Rosalie who was weak.

I brought the crop down again on her other thigh. The place where I had brought it down before was coming up in an angry red weal, but I did not care. Weak, unable to do my duty. I'd show her. I'd show her. I went into a frenzy, raining down stroke after stroke, covering from the tops of her thighs down to the backs of her knees in angry red welts, crossing over previous strokes. Rosalie would know I wasn't weak, I'd show her. I'd make her bleed. I would show her I did not care for anyone's feelings, no one's. I would show her I was not weak, not pathetic. And she was not too frail, too gentle for my crop. No, I'd show Rosalie. I'd show Bella. And she did not make a sound. I'd make her make a sound. I'd make her beg for mercy.

I did not know how long I went on for. I blacked out almost in what I was doing. It was only when I looked down, my chest heaving and my breathing laboured with the effort that I remembered what I was doing. She lay, motionless on her stomach, not moving. The backs of her thighs were... I was a monster. A silent tear fell down my face. I truly was a monster. I had never cried through feeling remorse. I had never cried since I was a child, and I never let my emotions overcome me enough to show them at all, never mind to cry. But this... this was not remorse this was... I loathed myself. Loathed everything that I was. I deserved to die. To die and be sent to an eternal life of pain, of hell.

The only good thing was that now she clearly would run away. I would lose the only thing I cared about, had ever truly cared about. What had I done? I didn't deserve her. I deserved to lose her, to torture myself every day for the rest of my life with her memory. I looked down at her. What had I done?

How had I lost control like that? I never lost control. Why did she make me lose control. Why was it that I could always control my temper with no difficulty until the resentment and anger and confusion and... and everything that I felt about her came into play? Why? What was it about her that caused me to lose control. I was known for my control. She was making me lose the person I'd convinced everyone, even myself that I was.

I could face the sight in front of me no longer. With some effort I steadied my voice. I wanted to say I was sorry, to beg her to forgive me. I wanted to take her in my arms, hold her, comfort her from the pain I knew she must be feeling but was not vocalising.

But none of that came out, because I did not want it to. She had made me cry, made me show emotion. But she would run now, and I would not let her see before she went how much it would hurt me. I would not show anyone, even this angel that I would never see again that my cold, indifferent facade had been broken through, I would never admit it. I would hold onto my pride till the end.

"You will put this on," I snapped, dropping the brown sack cloth on the floor next to her "And then you will stay in this corner until I return. I have no use for you during the day."

I recognised the same prideful nature in her that I had in myself. She would see the statement as a challenge. I had told her not to move, she would move. And if my beating had done what it was supposed to have done, she would not only move, but she would run.

She did not move, she just lay motionless. I looked down at her, trying to learn every inch of her back, I already had memorised her face. I would remember her always, although I knew that I would never see her again.

I turned and exited my room, slamming the door and then sitting down against it. Aslan, what had I done.

My riding crop was still in my hand.

I stood abruptly. I had lost Bella. I had lost her, because of myself and allowing Rosalie to goad me. Rosalie.

I strode back the way I had come to my own room, throwing Emmett and Rosalie's door open, not bothering to knock.

Rosalie stood in the middle of the room in her underdress, a slave I did not recognise removing items from her chests to dress her.

She did not look at me as I entered.

"Why Edward, you missed breakfast, I was discussing with Alice how you find Bella too beautiful to be able to beat her, discussing how pathetic I find that," she turned to look at me at this point and her face slowly changed from her usual self satisfied smirk to being afraid, "Edward wh-"

I cut her off by crossing the room and bringing the riding crop down on her back. And again. And again. And again. And again.

Usually being able to wipe the smirk off Rosalie's face would be something I was proud of, but right now I didn't care. I just wanted to hurt her. I just wanted to hurt her for what she had made me do to Bella, because I couldn't hurt myself, and she was the next best thing. Though I would hurt myself. I'd inflict so much self loathing on myself that I would never get over it, never forgive myself for it. And lack of self forgiveness, feeling an eternity of guilt, that was worse than any punishment anyone would give me. Any other punishment would have been a blessing, it would have been easier. And that was why I didn't deserve any other punishment.

"EDWARD!" she screamed in pain, her voice breaking.

"WITCH!" I roared at her, bringing it down a final time before dropping the crop at my side, "Witch." The second accusation was no more than a whisper.

She stared at me. She looked terrified. And confused. Rosalie had never heard me shout, never seen me show any kind of emotion. Not many had.

I turned, striding past Emmett on my way out who stood in his doorway, his jaw slack, his own face a mixture of confusion and wariness. He stood out of my way wordlessly.

I could not face whatever would be left of breakfast. I could not face sitting with my family, extended also to include Tanya and my aunt. Instead I walked out of my home, out of my gardens and into the grounds which we owned but did not use unless to ride. I walked until I came to my meadow. I had always gone here. After the gardens it was my favourite place. It was where I always went to think and be alone.

I needed to be alone. I was supposed to ride into town with my father and brothers to see Tanya and my aunt off, but I could not. I prayed no one would come looking for me, I couldn't face them. Couldn't face anything.

With any luck, Bella would run. Because I didn't deserve her. And she didn't deserve to have to put up with me. But I loved her. I barely knew her, but I loved her. I knew, instinctively, that she was it for me. That no one would ever make me feel as she did. I was to meet Isabella tomorrow. But there was no point. I would tell my father, there was no point. I would never again feel as I did for Bella. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity to feel this way. And I had ruined it, thrown it away.

I hoped against hope that she would not run, because I needed her. But... But I didn't deserve her.

I didn't deserve anyone or anything. Not even Rosalie, it hadn't been her fault. But I had just needed someone to blame because I was too weak and pathetic to own up to my own mistakes and faults.

I wanted her to run. I wanted Bella to run.

It was the first time I had ever put someone else's feelings above my own. I was willing to lose her, to help her, to save her from the brute that I was.

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	5. A Miracle

Chapter 5. A Miracle.

"_**For what has happened? A miracle. You have exchanged nothing for the possibility of everything."**_

_**-Willie Dixon**_

No one came for me all day, and I was glad. Well, they had probably looked for me. But no one had found me, and I thanked Aslan for that.

I didn't even know whether or not to return home. I could stay the night in the meadow. But Esme would worry. I had probably caused my mother enough worry for today. Twilight was closing in, and I realised that if my father and brothers had gone riding today then they would already have returned, and my mother would realise I had not been with them.

I made my way slowly back to my house. I stood by the lake in the grounds and looked up at it. It looked empty. There would be no brown haired, brown eyed, stubborn, upright little angelic devil waiting for me, waiting to bait me and tease me, and see straight through the pretence I had convinced everyone was me. No one waiting for me to come home to. And no, I had never had anyone to come home to. And I shouldn't have missed what I had never had. But if I just hadn't been such an ass this morning, I would have come home to find her in my room now. Not in the corner, where I had told her to wait. If I had beaten her or if I hadn't beaten her, there was no way she would have stayed in the corner all day. I knew that. I knew that about her, and I admired it. But now she wasn't there at all.

I pushed open the great front door and entered into the main hall, dragging my feet and staring at the ground. I didn't even know why I had bothered coming home. I had no desire to go on if there was no Bella.

"Edward?"

My father's voice caused me to snap my head up.

"Where have you been?"

I swallowed, before mumbling, "I was upset, forgive me, I felt my presence today would not have benefitted anyone."

"Edward... that is... Would you come to my study with me? We have much to discuss."

I nodded, and followed him through the house. He was probably going to give me a hiding for disappearing today without so much as a word. I would accept it, I deserved it. I doubted I would feel it anyway, so it wouldn't matter. I was numb, and my hearing seemed to be interrupted by a faint buzzing, humming sound ringing in my ears. I didn't think I would feel ever again. I didn't think anything would ever be normal ever again.

"Sit," my father indicated the seat in front of the great oak desk, his voice gentle. Perhaps I was not to be whipped, my father was not one to mince words, or use gentle tones when he was about to punish us.

I sat, slumped. I was so exhausted that my body could not sit straight. I had no energy, and I did not know why. I had stayed in the field all day, dozing on and off, dreaming of Bella, thinking of Bella. I had done nothing, yet I was drained.

"Edward, you are not the son whose emotions usually affect him so openly as to go off for a day on his own without telling anyone where or why, I must ask, what troubles you?"

I bit my lower lip, unsure of what to say, where to begin. _I think I'm in love with a slave father, who has now run away?_ I was pretty sure Carlisle would not find the idea of his youngest son being in love with and being upset over the loss a slave to the point that he ran off to be a particularly acceptable one.

"Edward, does this have anything to do with Isabella and the meeting tomorrow? I know you are against arranged marriages, son, and I am not forcing you, I am merely introducing you..."

He trailed off, his eyes searching me, looking for an answer.

I shook my head, "No."

"Then what?"

"I... I don't know."

"Edward if I believed that you caused the uproar you caused today because you felt like this without knowing the reason why you felt it I would be inclined to tan your hide for making us worry as you did, but I do not believe you."

I knew he wouldn't believe me. He knew me too well to think that I would have acted this way without being driven to it and left with no alternative. Although I was not the least emotional, I always appeared so; I covered everything I felt, always. It was just who I was.

At least, it was who I was until she arrived. And now she was gone.

"I apologise for the uproar of today, it will not be repeated," I said, rising from my seat.

"Please sit, Edward," Carlisle said gently again. "There are other matters I wish to discuss with you. You look drained, son," he commented as I sat back in the chair.

"I feel drained," I admitted.

"Tanya missed you today as we saw her off, I saw her looking over all our shoulders, still hoping evidently that you would appear at the last minute to say goodbye."

"I shall write to her to apologise."

"How do you think of Tanya?"

I said nothing, looking at my father questioningly.

"As a friend or lover?" he explained.

"A friend, always purely as a friend." I would think of no one but Bella as a lover, ever. I could think of others as wives. But Bella was the only one I would ever truly love.

"I see. I just thought... Well, it doesn't matter. I must also speak with you Edward about your new slave."

I looked up at him, my new slave. Bella? But what did Carlisle? My heart thudded.

"Tanya looked upset when the name Bella was mentioned today by Emmett; he seemed to think that you had not turned up today because you would be with her whoever she is. That was why... But, as I said, it doesn't matter. This new slave also seems to have upset Rosalie into one of her moods. It is not particularly appropriate for a slave to cause so much bother."

My heart sank. That had been done yesterday. In fact, it was probably me this morning that had sent her into the mood and she was just blaming Bella for it. I had hoped there, for a mere moment.

"I do not know the exact ins and outs, your slave was with Alice today and, whilst out walking, the two of them came across Rosalie, whom your slave called a witch, and Rosalie is now making everyone's lives a misery, as is her custom. Now you know-"

"Wait, Carlisle," I cut across him, my heart was pounding in my ears, my head spinning, had he really just said? Was it? Had it been? Had I heard right? "She was with Alice today? This happened today?"

He looked me up and down, taken aback by my uncharacteristic outburst.

"Yes, today. Now, you know that I think that Rosalie over reacts to everything, and that I do not approve of you all partaking in the slave trade, but neither of these things are anything I can do much about. She is as she is, and you are all old enough that I cannot forbid you from spending your money as you wish. However, if you are going to keep slaves, please keep them from upsetting your sister. It is not their place if they are here as slaves, and I do not wish to hear Rosalie moan as she has been doing."

"But it was definitely today?" I pressed him, ignoring everything he had just said.

He looked at me, incredulously, "Yes. Today."

I could have sung. I could have picked my father out his chair and danced around the room, swinging him around. I... But what if that had been earlier? I needed not to hope too much now; she could have left this afternoon, after calling Rosalie a witch. I hoped not, but it was possible.

"Now, Edward-" Carlisle was speaking again, and though I had the upmost respect for my father I could not listen anymore, I needed to go, to see, to check.

"Father, I must go, I am sorry," I scrambled to my feet and almost ran out of his office, looking back in time to see him standing behind his desk with his mouth open as though he were going to say something but looking too shocked to say it.

Was Bella still here? Could it be possible? My breath came in short sharp bursts as I nearly sprinted through my house, swerving round Emmett who said something to me, but I was past him too fast to hear. Was she still here? How could it be possible? How? How could it be possible that I had not driven her away?

And then I stopped. Carlisle had said she had been with Alice that day. Perhaps the only reason she had not run was because she was with Alice. Perhaps she would run the next day. I would be civilised tonight, it was as close as my pride would come to letting me beg her stay. And tomorrow I would go to town after meeting Isabella Swan and buy something to soothe the wounds I had inflicted on Bella this morning. I would buy the most expensive one. And then she would know, if she stayed and did not run, that I did not intend to treat her badly. I would not tolerate disobedience, not from anyone. I would not be spoken to in the manner she seemed to think was acceptable. But I would treat her more than fairly. I would treat her kindly. If she was still here. And if she was still here tomorrow.

I stood outside my door for a long time. Did I push it open? For as long as I remained outside I could entertain the hope that she was in there. I pressed my ear to the door. I could hear no sound. But I could feel that there was life in there. I prayed to Aslan it was her. Please, please let it be her.

But what if I opened it and it wasn't her? Did I want to face that? For as long as I could stay here I didn't need to know, either way. I was being a coward. I scolded myself. I had no time for cowards. I was Edward Cullen, for Aslan's sake, I would not skulk outside doorways. I would face up to whatever was in there, or not in there. And if it broke me, then so be it.

And what was more, I would do it confidently. I would not be gentle. I would show no signs that I had been in turmoil all day over the morning's events. If she was still there, she would still know her place, she would still be my slave. I would not allow her to know how she affected me. It would give her all the power, and I couldn't be comfortable in that state. She had too much power over me as it was. When I was around her, everything got out of hand. It wasn't right.

I bit my lip then pushed the door open and strode in.

My heart stopped as I realised it was just Alice, just Alice sitting on the sofa. She had gone, she had left. I would not let my sister see me get upset. She had truly gone. My life was now... empty, pointless, devoid of her and therefore devoid of meaning.

Alice looked up at me, our eyes meeting across the room. Her face showed shock and concern and it was then I realised that the pain I was feeling had covered my face, was showing. I never let my emotion show, and the worry it caused my sister testified to the rareness. I schooled my features and shook my head at her, indicating that I did not wish to talk about the reasons behind it.

I took another two steps into the room and let my eyes travel round it, anything not to have to look at Alice, not to have to see her eyes that watched me, bore into me.

And then I had to fight not to let the smile I wanted to show cover my face, to get down on my knees and thank Aslan for this miracle.

She had not run. She was there. She was in the corner. She was in the corner I had told her to be in, as though I was going to believe for a minute she hadn't left it. And usually I would have crossed the room and hauled her to her feet and brought my hand down on her several times for leaving the corner and then trying to fool me that she did not. But this time I did not even think of doing that, no, now I wanted to cross the room and haul her to her feet and take her in my arms and tell her that I loved her and I was sorry and- But I did neither.

Instead I looked both of them up and down before asking, in a very controlled voice, "Alice did you and Bella go outside?"

"No, Edward! Whatever gave you that idea?" my twin replied to me, feigning amazement that I would even ask such a question. In truth I cared not that they had left the room, disobeyed me. But I would make an issue of it, just to make the point that they shouldn't have.

"You are in my chambers," I replied, keeping my voice neutral.

"We were talking."

Ha! Did she honestly expect me to believe that? No, my twin did not, I knew that. She knew that I did not and would not believe her, but she lied to me anyway. Was it really a lie when we both knew she was lying? I didn't know. I supposed so, but Alice and I shared that twin bond that caused us to understand one another.

"Did Bella leave her corner?" I asked.

"No Edward, not once."

Liar. But in truth I was glad Bella had made a friend of my sister. It meant she had someone to look out for her, someone to protect her who did not have to do so and hide the fact that they were doing it. I would protect her, look out for her interests, but I would not be open about it, she would not know, never know, how I cared for her. That was just the way I was. Foolish pride, it was a fault she and I both shared. But that was just the way we both were. Could I have loved her if it were not for that pride? For that tossed head? The arrogance?

"Fine. Leave. Now." I snapped at Alice.

"Charming Edward," she grumbled at me, obviously displeased at being ordered to go, "See you at dinner."

I gave her one good, hard smack as she passed me on her way to the door. I would not beat Bella but I would show her that I did punish disobedience. But not as I had done this morning. And though she did not know it, what I had done this morning would save her from a few punishments. But she would never know it, and never appreciate it.

"Hey! What in the name of Aslan was that for?" Alice snapped at me.

"For being in my room, for talking to Bella and most likely for lying, even if I cannot prove it."

She stuck her tongue out at me as she danced from his room, laughing at him. I allowed my neutral expression to fall into a frown. I would have Alice respect me, not laugh at me. Especially not in front of Bella. I wondered idly if Jasper was going soft. I doubted it; Jasper was Narnian and more than quick with his hands

I turned my attention to the beautiful angel in the corner, wearing that awful dress. I would burn that dress. It somehow did not diminish her beauty as I hoped it would.

"Bella," I said, to get her attention. She kept her eyes on the ground. I wondered if this was a mark of obedience, respect, I had told her not to look at me last night; perhaps she was obeying the order. Or perhaps she was just being defiant and trying to act as though she had not heard me, act as though she was ignoring me. I decided with a small inner smile that it was probably the latter. "Bella look at me."

Again she did not. "Bella, look at me, I will not ask again," I demanded, letting just an edge of danger fall into my voice. She would learn to respect me, obey me, but I would not frighten her away now, not if I could help it. Although, given that she had not run today, nor now did she seem scared I realised that she did not seem to be one to frighten easily. Even if she was frightened she wouldn't show it anyway. But I could tell, as she did raise those beautiful eyes to me, the defiance in them showed that she was not scared of me. And I loved that. It was a challenge, to get her in my control. But it was as though she was telling me her obedience was to be earned; she did not just give it.

_And I will earn your obedience Bella, I will earn you, everything you can give me, every trait you have, everything that you are, your likes, dislikes, hates, loves. I will earn the right to know it all. I will earn you, Bella. I will make myself worthy._

"Bella did you leave your corner today?"

There was a flash in her eyes and I prepared myself to try and keep my temper at the defiant and rude answer I expected from her. But then -

"Yes, I did," she whispered.

She whispered. Why? Was she doing it on purpose? Playing me? But her eyes looked dead into mine and I knew that she was merely telling the truth. Had I scared her after all? Was she whispering because she was scared of what her disobedience would earn her? Oh Bella, your disobedience would earn you a punishment of some form usually, but not today, not after this morning. And it would never earn you that brutal kind of beating I gave you this morning, never.

I fought to keep my face and voice expressionless, not to go to her and comfort her.

"Did you and Alice go outside?"

"Yes."

"Did you call Rosalie a witch?"

"Yes."

I wanted to let out a great bellow of laughter. So she was not submissive, that defiance was there, she spoke to Rosalie however she wished, it was only me she would answer to. And to imagine Rosalie faced with this... I kept my face under control but my eyes must have shown something for her eyes widened as they poured in to mine. I did not know what she had seen, what what she had seen would mean to her.

"Thank you for your honesty, Bella."

I turned and strode from the room. I would have to be more in control, I had not realised how intuitive she was, that she would see things when I let myself slip for a moment.

But she was here. She was still here. I let a large, stupid smile take over my face. She was still here. It was a miracle. I remembered something I had read in an old philosophy book, something about miracles exchanging nothing for the possibility of everything. I had nothing without her. Nothing. With her, everything. Everything worth anything anyway. It was strange, how things that seemed so distance in old books, seemed like they would never personally apply to me, suddenly did, in the strangest of situations.

But I had to not let my joy run away with me, I had to remember that there was a possibility that she had only not run today because she had been with Alice, I had to remember that she could make a break for it tomorrow. But I could hope otherwise. It was strange, having hope. I couldn't remember hoping for anything in a long time. I couldn't remember feeling like I had wanted something in a long time, something that I couldn't personally get, something that I couldn't control weather I got or not.

Alice was leaning against the wall opposite me.

I had suspected as much of her, and I ignored her, starting along down the corridor towards our dining hall.

"Edwarddddd," she sang out at me as I walked. I knew she would not let me away that easily, Aslan damn her.

I whirled round on my heel, "Alice?"

"You look damn stupid with that smile all over your face, but I like it. I guess I'm just not so used to seeing your face do anything other than glare, look serious, or look indifferent."

I glared at her.

"And we're back to the familiar. I think you forget we're twins sometimes," her narrowed eyes swept up and down my form, and she raised her hand, tapping her temple, "we're connected you know."

I sighed, trying to cover the shot of fear that coursed through my stomach. Did Alice know?

"It's not like you're a mind reader, Alice," I said coldly.

"No, reading people like your books is your job, as is freaking people out so you can get inside their heads and make sure that they never get a minutes peace. Mind tricks are your department, I'll admit, but I know you better than anyone else."

"You know a great deal less than you'd like to think you do."

"Oh don't bother Edward," she laughed at me.

"Don't bother what?"

"Trying to pretend you're all angry with me. You know I know how you feel about her anyway."

"I'm sure I know not what you're talking about Alice."

"I think you forget we're twins sometimes," she repeated, smiling that infuriating Cheshire cat grin. I frowned in response at her, just to show how opposite we truly were.

"I hear you from time to time," she grinned, tapping her temple, "And we do have that twin understanding as you put it, like when you know I'm lying and I know you'll do nothing about it because you like it that I'm friends with Bella."

I grabbed her arm and twisted her round, landing a few sharp smacks down on her,

"Edward!" she squealed, trying to wriggle out of my grasp.

I held her a while longer until she gave up before I released her. Alice would learn, the two of them would learn.

"If you speak of this to anyone I will whip you Alice, not spank you, whip you, understand?"

"Understood," she snapped, turning on her heel and striding away from me in the direction of the dining hall.

I leaned against the wall, pinching the bridge of my nose. Why did I have to feel this way about a slave when it caused such problems? Even with my twin sister. I stood up, squaring my shoulders. There was nothing I could do about it. And if Alice thought that me being in love was going to cause me to change overnight into someone who would be more tolerable as her twin, someone she could walk all over then she was most certainly wrong. I hoped.

I thought once more of Bella and let the stupid smile spread all over my face again, before doing something so uncharacteristic I was sure any of my family would have had a heart attack upon witnessing it.

I ran a few paces down the corridor then leapt into the air and punched my fist up in ecstasy and victory. Not my personal victory from any personal efforts, but a victory of the universe.

She was still here.

I landed back to the ground, stood up straight, shook myself, and contorted my face into my usual indifferent expression.

At least, I would not change so obviously overnight.

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	6. Family Dinner

Chapter 6

_Dinner was made for eating, not for talking.__  
__**William Makepeace Thackeray**_

"Well there he is!" Emmett's shout boomed round the dining hall as I entered, "Hallelujah! Praise Aslan! He's alive!"

"You're very amusing, Emmett," I replied coldly, now fully in control of myself again.

I sat down at my usual place, my father's right hand side, and concentrated on grabbing some of the meat that was in the middle of the table for my own dinner.

"Where did you go today Edward?" Jasper's gentle Narnian voice questioned.

"It doesn't matter, does it?" Alice surprised me by jumping in to answer her husband before I did. I snapped my head up to shoot her a questioning look, but her attention was diverted by her blonde Narnian, sitting by her side, also giving her the same questioning look I had been planning to deliver. She laid her hand on his arm and smiled and he turned his attention back to his food, ladling more meat onto Alice's plate. The conversation between them regarding me and my whereabouts was over. Jasper was always in control of Alice, she answered to him, but he knew her, knew when she needed his control and when she was to be allowed to be free.

The same was not true for Emmett and Rosalie.

"Venison," Emmett indicated the meat, "It's good, hell of a time catching it though. We almost stopped, half wondered if it were a talking beast, given its speed and skill at avoiding us, but it were dumb, we made sure of that, we trie-"

"Where exactly where you today Edward?" Rosalie cut across her husband's recollection of the hunting trip.

I stared into Rosalie's green eyes, a sea green, not an emerald green like my own, "Is that any of your concern Rosalie?"

I saw my mother glance between the two of us out of the corner of my eye. I knew that she also was desperate to know where I'd been and if I were alright; my mama was the ever loving, ever caring, if ever babying, mother that everyone hoped for. But she would not ask me now. I was her favourite, though Aslan alone knew why for I was by far the most difficult, but she seemed to be more determined to love me due to the coldness I showed everyone. Everyone including her, I was slightly sorry to say. Not out of badness but I found it easier to deal with emotions if I trained them to always be in check, never showing, never taking over me. But it never just sat with her the way it did everyone else, merely caused her to try more.

"Well, personally-" Rose began but to my immense surprise and relief my father cut her off.

"Rosalie, that's enough." And that was all it took. She shut her mouth and said nothing. I marvelled. My father was the only one she ever obeyed, Emmett could make her obey him but not with simple words.

My mother broke the awkward silence that followed the small interchange by enquiring with Alice about the green material she had used to make me a new riding cloak for my birthday, apparently, despite its handsome appearance it was not velvet but some new material that looked as velvet did but was waterproof. The unwritten rule was that dinner was supposed to be a family affair, the one time of day we all sat together (though I was sure my mother would have had more had we agreed to it) but none of the men in the room were interested in a conversation of materials, so my father took his life in his hands and turned to me.

"I take it that whatever your reasons for running out of my study earlier today that everything is now alright?" he enquired in a low and quiet voice.

I started, "Forgive me, father, but yes, everything is as it should be."

He nodded, "I am glad."

"Thank you."

"I trust now-" my father began, but Emmett, with his as ever wonderful timing cut him off.

"What did you run out on dad for?" he enquired, sticking his nose into the conversation, and, as always, speaking a hundred decibels louder than was necessary.

My mother and sister stopped talking, my mother turning to frown at us, realising that we had not all been listening with rapt attention to her talk of damasks and silks.

"Well, Emmett, if you must know I was going to check the whereabouts of my new slave."

He grinned, widely, "So you do like her!"

"Oh, Edward!" my mother cut across, "Not another slave, you know how I feel about subjecting people to that."

Her voice was gentle, but upset. My father sighed.

"Mama, it was not my choice," I softened her by using the name I had used for her when we were younger, "Emmett bought me her for my birthday, I really had no say in the matter."

"Emmett," she sighed, turning her eyes on him.

"Oh come on, mama," he turned his jovial eyes to hers, but followed my lead of softening her, "Edward is eighteen now and has never yet known a woman, if he has a slave to do such things with then perhaps he will please whatever wife ends up lumped with him."

Well, now I didn't even understand why he had bothered with the old pet name.

"You disgust me, Emmett Cullen, we raised you better," my mother snapped, her voice dangerous and low and trembling. She slammed down her knife and fork and got up, storming out the dining room, glaring at Emmett.

"Well, thank you Emmett," Carlisle said in a neutral voice after the great oak door had slammed behind our mother.

Emmett bit his lip, "I didn't think she would... I was trying to be funny."

"You may be an adult but your mother still will not find humour of that variety funny, not from anyone, regardless of age. Besides, no matter your age, you represent both of us in the way we raised you."

"Sorry," he muttered, his eyes falling to his plate.

"I think I may as well go try and calm your mother, please enjoy the rest of your dinner," Carlisle said evenly, folding his napkin tidily into a perfect rectangle and getting up, pushing his chair in before following through the way my mother had just exited.

I caught Rosalie smiling slightly, she was probably glad to now not be the last person at the table to be rebuked.

I sighed, with a family as mad as mine it was no wonder I was the way I was, I was the only voice of reason other than my father, who was away to Narnia for work purposes more and more these days.

Alice and Rosalie were too hot headed and irrational, Emmett was too immature, and though Jasper was highly intelligent and reasonable Alice had him round her finger, and she knew it.

And Bella. Well, I didn't well enough know yet did I? But she seemed too fiery to be the voice of reason, too proud.

_But you can be that fiery, that proud. You just don't let it show, _I reminded myself.

"Tanya seemed upset that you were not there to bid her goodbye," my small sister trilled, in an effort to gloss over what had just happened.

I sighed, in my elation that I had felt upon realising that Bella was still in my life I had not yet dealt with the guilt in the way I had treated my favourite cousin, "I shall write to her tonight, explain and apologise. Did she say anything?"

"Nothing much," Alice replied, shoving a forkful of crisp roasted potatoes into her mouth so that she could evade my probing.

I turned my eyes on Jasper, who sighed and answered for her, "She was clearly looking for you, though she did not vocalise it."

"That is to be expected, we are close friends, she would feel insulted that I did not come to see her off home," I answered.

_But that still does not explain why Alice does not seem to wish to answer me properly_, I told him with my eyes.

He bit his lip, "Emmett hinted that perhaps you were not there due to the presence of Bella in your life... Upon hearing this she whispered the name 'Bella' but we were sure we were not supposed to hear it, as she raised her voice to say 'Thank you for a wonderful time and such glorious hospitality' before she turned and boarded the ship. I think," he proceeded delicately, "That she may have been crying."

"Crying?"

"Yes, crying."

I fumed, "You say Emmett hinted, will someone please tell me word for word what you," I jabbed my finger at my large buffoon of a brother, "said."

It was not a question, it was a demand.

"I think, word for word, it may have been along the lines of, 'Hopefully he is too busy bedding that beautiful little wench that I bought him yesterday to be bothered with anything else except his' and then I believe he was going to make some reference to your private parts before Carlisle cut him off, to ask what wench he was talking of, to which Emmett replied 'Bella'. Was that about it Emmett?" Jasper treaded carefully.

"The jist of it, yes," Emmett replied.

"You are an idiot," I told my brother coldly, annunciating each word.

"Well I didn't know it was going to upset her, you keep insisting you two are nothing but friends. Besides, Tanya is so concerned with propriety that I would have thought she would have been against such emotional outpourings as crying in public," Emmett snapped, clearly infuriated that he was being seen to be the cause of so many problems tonight.

"We are nothing but friends, Emmett, I do not love Tanya in that way, but I betrayed her by not telling her who Bella was when she asked me this morning and she is upset at the betrayal between friends as good as us."

"You were with her this morning?"

"Before I came to get Rosalie from you."

Rosalie let out a sharp breath and tossed her head, "Well, clearly at the root of all of this is that little idiot Bella."

"You shouldn't call people you don't know idiots, I happen to think she's wonderful," Alice said heatedly in my girl's defence. My girl? Aslan, I had not just hit out with that, even in my own mind.

"And I happen to think she's an idiot," Rosalie snapped, "Who needs to be beaten till she cannot sit or lie for weeks! Not whatever ridiculous affair you gave her this morning that you seemed to be so resolved to deliver, it cannot have worked or she would not have spoken to me as she did today."

I silently fumed, Rosalie knew nothing of what she talked, nothing of what Bella deserved.

"She needs to learn to respect those who are above her in society, and to watch that filthy, barbarian, heathen mouth of hers!" she continued.

"Well, you can't very well call her a barbarian," Jasper pointed out, "She clearly has been raised decently, I'd say bordering on well, you could tell when she arrived by what she was wearing, and by the way she conducts herself."

"How could she be raised well? She is a slave!"

"Bought her from Gliftin myself," Emmett put in.

"I am not saying she is well, I am saying she is almost well, I know as well as you that those from well-to-do families would not be wandering themselves to be caught by Gliftin, I am merely pointing out that the girl is not a barbarian," Jasper surprised me by snapping at Rosalie. Jasper was probably the gentlest of all of us siblings. Emmett was the most laid back, Jasper was too concerned over things to be laid back, but Jasper did not anger too easily, or lose his temper or do anything that could ever be thought of as rash.

"Civilised people do not go around calling people they do not know filthy barbarian names!" Rosalie countered, looking to Emmett for support, but it was clear she was not going to get any from anyone as Emmett concentrated very hard on cutting a potato precisely in half.

"Jasper is right, Rosalie, you cannot refer to her as a barbarian. You just don't like her because she called you a witch and you can't stand it when anyone talks back to you, slave or otherwise," I said, raising an eyebrow at my sister in law.

"Besides from which," Alice piped up, "Both Bella and I say that you are lying, you cannot prove that she said what you say she said."

Rosalie turned her furious eyes on Alice but I cut across her as she opened her mouth, "Oh no, Alice, _you_ may say that Bella never said it, but Bella has admitted that what Rosalie claims happened is the truth."

"I swear! I'll murder her! Narnians! No sense of sisterhood!" Alice spluttered, looking put out that her new best friend had given in.

"Perhaps Narnians are raised to tell more truths than to keep themselves out of trouble," I replied.

"Hmph! Well, you'd better not try and beat her," was my sister's reply.

"Of course he will beat her, not only does she commit the crime but the rat has no sense to deny it, she admits it, proud as day!" Rosalie raged.

"I am not going to beat Bella," I replied, spooning potatoes onto one of the spare plates that were always left in the centre of the table. Vegetable wise would Bella prefer green beans, peas or carrots. All, I decided, I would take the safe road and bring her all in the hopes that she would like at least one.

Alice's mouth dropped, "But Edward, of us all, despite the fact you don't keep many slaves you are known to be the strictest, hardest to deal with master of us all!"

"I am indeed, but I am choosing not to beat her for this. And it's none of your business as to why," I shot her a look and she closed the mouth which I knew had been tipped on the verge of spewing up a great amount of questions.

"I will claw your eyes out if you don't beat her Edward! Either that or I will beat her for you, harder than you ev-" Rosalie began.

"YOU WILL DO NO SUCH THING!" I roared at her, banging my fist on the table. She visibly flinched, and Jasper's mouth fell open. I took a few calming breaths, "Bella is my slave and I will punish her when I deem necessary, she is not yours and you will not presume to do anything with her or to her."

"In all the time I have known you Edward, I have never heard you shout, yet twice in one day now, since she arrived, you have lost enough control of yourself to shout."

I turned my face to hers, allowing anger to cloud over me, "Rosalie, you would do well to shut that mouth of yours, if you do not then I will be more than happy to shut it for you."

There was a silence, no one seemed to know what to do or say. I took a generous cut of the venison and added it to the plate.

"If everyone will excuse me," I said coldly, pushing my chair away and getting to my feet, "I am going to take this to Bella and then I wish to be left alone in my room undisturbed for the rest of the evening."

I walked out of the room without a backwards glance.

How dare Rosalie demand I beat Bella? No, Rosalie's problem was that I had beaten her that morning, and she knew that it was in some connection with Bella and the beating I had been supposed to give her. The beating I did give her.

I berated myself, Rosalie would, from now on, probably carry a weighty vendetta against Bella. And it was my fault. Bella didn't deserve it. Why had I beat Rosalie? I didn't even know... I just needed someone to pay for what I had done to Bella, and I couldn't beat myself so she was just, I didn't know exactly... the next best thing? It even sounded ridiculous to me. And as much as I would tell Rosalie not to touch Bella, Rosalie was not an enemy I wanted Bella to have.

I leaned against my bedroom door for a moment, breathing deeply to calm myself. I would handle Rosalie, I would make sure that Bella did not suffer for my mistakes.

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**So this was shot, I know, but this and the next chapter originally made up one chapter but it was just far too long, so this was the only place I could kind of split it.**

**Anyway, please review and chapter 7 comesssss :)**


	7. Dreams Speak Desires

**Chapter 7. Dreams Speak Desires.**

_**"But still sometimes, when the wind is warm or the crickets sing, I dream of a love that even time will lie down and be still for."**_

_**-Practical Magic**_

I sidled into the room, holding the plate carefully so as to make sure none of the sauce for the meat escaped into the floor. I set the plate down on the table, watching her watching me. I glanced down at the dinner I had brought, hoping that she would enjoy it, determined that even if she did not enjoy it that I would make her eat something. I probably wouldn't have to make her do such a thing as eat though; the poor girl was probably half starved.

I was about to tell her to come to the desk and eat when I realised that I should probably assure her of the nature of the animal I had brought her, she would consider Narnian, that was to say, talking animals sacred. As did we. But she probably thought that everyone in the Lone Islands was Barbaric, and I could not blame her. Emmett had bought her from Gliftin, who was the personification of barbarian-ness, and then she had been brought to me, and by my beating this morning... Her impressions would be poor, to say the least.

"I do not eat the talking beasts so you can be assured it was not one," I told her, making sure that my voice was controlled, "But you may only eat at the desk, I do not care for people to eat on the floor in front of me like animals."

A flash of anger clouded her clear brown eyes for a moment; I had probably insulted her with my desk comment. It was not meant against her nature or breeding, it was in case she thought I wished her eat in her corner, on the floor. I would not be surprised had she taken that impression of me, I had been trying to keep her in her proper place, keep her in her slave frame of mind by giving her the stone floor to sleep and sit on, but despite the fact that I would see her as my slave, and she would know that was how I saw her, I could not bear to see her eat there.

She winced as she sat, and I felt a flash of guilt. Her beating would hurt her for a few days, and the sensitiveness of her thighs was probably heightened by the awful material of the dress I had given her to wear. I would find something better for her to wear tomorrow. No, tonight.

As she sat to eat her meal, which she had not pulled a face at nor rejected to my great delight, I crossed over to the dresser in which I had kept some of Tanya's clothing for when she was staying two summers ago. Even two years ago Tanya's curves had been much more womanly and well developed than Bella's much more fragile curves and rigging were, but I supposed they must have been roughly the same size, both were fairly slim, but with breasts and hips. I picked out a soft, chiffon bed dress and laid it over my sofa before going to sit opposite Bella at the desk. I wondered what kind of reaction the dress would elicit from the she-devil I shared a table with now... Would she be grateful in a broken, desperate way, or would she toss her head as though she deserved nothing less? I knew the answer.

I lowered my eyes to my desk and pulled parchment and a quill towards me.

Now to handle Tanya.

_Dearest Cousin,_

_I am aware that Emmett told you today about Bella an-_

I scribbled through that, and began again.

_Dear Cousin,_

_I am writing to see if you are OK after how I have betrayed your trust._

No, that really wasn't right either.

_Dear Tanya,_

_I am sorry that I didn't tell you about Bella myself._

No, no, no!

_Tanya,_

_I'm possibly in love with Bella, who is a slave that I shouldn't be in love with, and I'm having a hard time coming to terms with it, because I'm basically screwed, therefore I just lied about her existence this morning, sorry..._

It was accurate, but inappropriate even by Tanya and I's relaxed standards with one another.

I suddenly became aware that Bella was nearing the end of the dinner she was concentrating on and that soon her attention may divert to trying to see what I was doing, as I was sure she was as full as natural curiosity and need to know everything as I was. I scribbled through the last version of the letter. Hard.

I pulled a new sheet of parchment towards me, and dipped the quill in the ink again for yet another go.

I lifted the feather and was about to begin when I realised that Bella had just stood up. I put the quill back down in the ink well. Damnit, I would not let her walk all over me as such, even my own sisters would ask to be excused from the table. Even my mother, with tonight's outburst being an exception, would ask my father's permission before leaving the table. The only woman in the whole country who would leave a table without asking permission was the one I was deemed to meet the next day, the future Queen, Isabella Swan, yet here Bella was, standing as though she were the damned Queen! I would show her, remind her of her place. I would not beat her, not even spank her. But I would rebuke her; I would make sure she knew she could not go around doing as she pleased.

"Bella, did I give you permission to leave the table?"

She did not answer me, but raised her chin higher into the air and straightened her shoulders slightly. I wasn't even sure if she was aware of this seemingly natural response that she seemed to give whenever anyone challenged her. It was as if her body was asking me who I dared think I was to challenge her.

Well, I wasn't going to take from her what my own father would not abide for from my mother; I stood and walked round the desk to stand beside her, pushing that glorious waterfall of brunette hair away from one ear so that I could speak lowly and directly into it. I did not relish what I was about to do, and I hoped that despite it she would still stay, still not run tomorrow, but although I was determined from now on to treat her fairly, that did not mean I would be walked over.

"Get this through your head, woman," I murmured, "You are mine. You are my property. You do what I say and only as I say. For your refusal to answer you will sleep naked again tonight."

She turned her head and I realised that this was the first time she has seen the bed dress. Her shoulders sagged. Perhaps if she had seen the bed dress first she would have not acted so...

Perhaps I had to show Bella what the rewards for her good behaviour would be. And I intended to make sure they went beyond simple matters such as bed dresses, but I would not spoil her now, she would earn simple things, learn that she had to earn these things, that they were not owed to her. But I would show her that if she did co-operate, behave... if she did not run tomorrow, if she stayed... I would give her wonderful things, show her wonderful things, teach her wonderful things. She had been reading my book the first time I had seen her, we would read together, discover things, discuss things. But she would learn to behave first.

And I would get her some better clothes, I decided, pulling the hideous thing that clothed her now off her body so hard that it ripped at the shoulders and fell in a heap on the floor. She cried out in pain as it pulled against her, and I wanted to put my arms around her, but I restrained myself. Tomorrow, Edward, if she is still here tomorrow...

And tomorrow would also bring the burning of that dress.

"Get to your corner now," I ordered, shoving her to get her on her way, I didn't trust myself to be so close to her naked form. I shoved her too hard though; she fell slightly, letting out another slight cry. I felt as though I'd been punched in the gut upon hearing it.

Aslan, I was useless. I watched as she half crawled to the corner and settled down, her back to me, allowing me to witness the angry, livid red marks I had left on her that morning. I didn't deserve her to still be here tomorrow.

I returned to the desk and picked up the quill again, but as soon as I raised it over the page a large angry blot dropped from the end of it, seeping out over the parchment. I silently cursed. Left too long in the ink meant overload. Like me, left too long in control and feeling nothing meant that now I was in overload and spewing ink blots everywhere without control. Well, maybe I was as well sending Tanya a piece of paper with a large blot on it; it was probably more of an explanation than I could coherently come up with.

I crumbled the piece of paper and threw it into the bin under my desk, along with my other failed attempts.

I failed several more times within the next hour and then decided to give myself a break by getting up to blow out the candles around the room. I was unsure if Bella was awake or asleep, but I knew I always slept better with darkness surrounding me. I left only the candle on my bedside table and the candle on my desk burning, but as I crossed back to sit again and resume writing I caught sight of the bed dress. Damnit, I was going soft. I picked it up, then crossed to the corner where she lay. Her eyes were closed and her breathing indicated she was sleeping, though only lightly. How could anyone sleep other than to sleep lightly on a cold stone floor? I deposited the dress on the floor next to her. If she woke up, she would know I had moved it there for her and she would feel free to put it on.

I returned back to the desk. What was I supposed to say? How did I explain this?

_Dear Cousin,_

_As I am sure you are aware, I owe you a huge explanation. I lied to you this morning, when I denied the existence of Bella, and to add insult to this injury, you had to find out that it was a lie from my half wit of a brother. Truly, I am immensely sorry and I beg your forgiveness._

_I did not purposely lie about Bella this morning out of badness, or a wish to hide anything from you, you know I trust you implicitly, but I was entirely unsure of how to explain who she is. Truthfully, my darling cousin, I am still unsure. Bella is a slave that my afore mentioned half wit of a brother bought for me for my birthday... She is a strange girl, around my age I should think, haughty, stubborn, wilful, disobedient, and entirely too beautiful for a slave to be. She makes me... When I am around her..._

_I have ripped up several attempts of this letter already Tanya, and so I am giving up and sending this, despite its ridiculousness and the immense amount of unended sentences. In truth, I have no end for those sentences, no coherent explanation for anything, and I cannot offer you anything more on this page than these jumbled and insensitive words. I wish I were more blessed to be able to put such things into words, if I had the brains of the High King Peter, I am sure I would have many explanations and theories on Bella and her effect on me, and why when she comes into question I should tarnish the relationship I have with a person I cherish to dearly by lying to this said person. _

_I hope she forgives me._

_Awaiting your reply,_

_Your cousin,_

_Edward._

It was undoubtedly the worst letter I had ever written, and if Tanya never answered it I wouldn't blame her. I could not make it any clearer, could not put down in words... Well, I could put it down in words, but they were words I cared not to see in incriminating black and white, nor words I cared for my cousin to read. She knew me, knew me better than anyone, knew that I was too sensible supposedly to feel this way after a day...

I would sleep. I needed to stop thinking of this altogether. Though I did not doubt that my dreams would be plagued by her. Welcome plague.

I was half asleep when Bella turned over in the corner. My eyes had adjusted to the dark, but even if they had not I would have rejestered the movement, it was not gentle.

_Wake, Bella, wake and put on that damn dress_, I willed her.

"I shall not," Bella whined, and I sat up in bed, wondering with a wild chill if I had spoken out loud or if she was truly some sort of spirit or witch who could read my thoughts.

I opened my mouth, prepared to ask her as much when she slammed her fist down and snapped, loudly, "But I want it!"

I got out of bed and crossed the room to where she lay. Her eyes were closed.

"Give me it," she demanded, "I want it."

I didn't know whether to laugh, smile, or be disgusted. Even in her sleep, when she sleep talked, when she dreamed, Bella was stubborn and demanding and haughty.

"No!" she snapped.

I half chuckled and headed back to bed. So, Bella was a sleep talker, that was interesting.

"No!" she snapped again.

I got back into bed and lay down.

"No!"

Clearly someone in her dream wasn't quite getting the point. Oh to be in that dream, even if I wasn't getting her point...

"Give it to me!"

And she wanted something from whoever she was dreaming about. If only there was something she wanted from me other than the end of my existence, I would give that angel the world if I could. If I could do it and stand to look in the mirror, look in the eyes of my family.

"No."

I lay back down and laughed. Obviously the person in her dream wasn't co-operating. It was an amusing thought, she refused to co-operate with me, and in her dream someone wasn't co-operating with her. Maybe a headstrongedness and lack of will to co-operate was something she also found highly attractive.

"Edward… come back…"

I froze. Did she just... ? Did I hear...?

She seethed in her sleep, her breath through her teeth, flailing from side to side, irritated.

"Edward! Come back! Come back, I say! Edward!"

Yes, yes I definitely heard that. She was saying my name. But was it me? Perhaps it was another Edward? And if it was me, would that even be a good thing – she was clearly sleeping restlessly, badly. If it was me in the dream obviously her dreams about me were so bad she tossed and turned.

"Aren't you just going to spank me if I don't?"

What the... ?

"Edward… No… Come back! Edward… Don't leave…" I pleaded, I begged, I nearly cried.

If it was me then despite the fact I was obviously distressing her... she wanted me to stay with her... I couldn't comprehend it... It couldn't be me, it couldn't be. She couldn't want me to stay in her dream, there was no way she wanted me to stay anywhere near her...

"Edward, no! Make me say please! Come back here and spank me and make me say please! Spank me for not saying it. Teach me what happens for not saying please. Please, Edward, please!" she was almost screaming, "I need you to make me say please Edward. I need you. Please."

I sat back up, reaching out to her, confused. I wanted to go to her, take her in my arms, rock her, hold her, tell her that yes I would spank her, discipline her, teach her what happened when she didn't say please, but that I would love her, keep her safe, keep her secure, that I would spank her till she learned her lesson then cuddle her and kiss her tears away and tell her that after she had been punished she was forgiven, tell her to forgive herself, explain to her that to be punished was a blessing for her, that it meant she wouldn't hold onto all the self guilt that the guilty, who knew in their heart of hearts that they had done wrong, did hold. And Bella held that, the very fact she asked to be spanked in her dreams told me that. Her stubbornness told me that. Everything about her told me that. She wanted someone to take care of her, you could see it in her eyes, she had never relinquished control, and she craved the ability to.

I was about to slide my legs out of bed and cross to her to wake her and hold her when she sat bolt upright and gasped out a loud "PLEASE!"

She was awake. I knew it, she had woken up. And I didn't know what to do, I was frozen in this ridiculous sitting up position, with an arm reaching out towards her. What would she think? Did she knew she talked in her sleep? Did she... would she?

Her head swivelled towards me, and I couldn't stop staring at her and our eyes met across the darkened room. What did I do? Did I go to her? Did I pretend it never happened? Did I lie down and in the morning we just acted like our usual selves. Did I forget what I had heard her ask me for in her dream tonight? Could I? Should I tell her to put the bed-dress on and throw her a pillow?

And in all the time I had spent here frozen considering these options she must have thought I was a complete imbecile. I quickly dropped my arm and lay back down.

The problem with having never been one to show my feelings meant that when they did overpower me I didn't know how to deal with them, and having never dealt with feelings that could overpower me I had no knowledge of what to do or how to act, how to respond positively.

Forget her thinking I was an imbecile, I clearly was a complete and utter imbecile.

And despite the fact that I didn't know how to act when I felt this way, I was sure, I berated myself, that lying back down had been the wrong decision.

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Please review :) x


	8. Inspiration

**Chapter 8. Inspiration.**

_**I have to get inspired by something that touches my soul, or rocks my soul.**__**  
**__**Steven Tyler**_

I drifted half in and out of uneasy sleep, plagued myself now by dreams.

I didn't often dream, and I probably didn't have the ability to dream in fullness but each time I dosed half in and out of my awaken state, I played over scenes in my mind where I rose out the bed and woke her up, taking her in my arms; scenes where I rose out of bed and went to lie beside her; scenes where I rose out of bed and picked her up and returned to the bed for her to sleep beside me; scenes where I woke her up and returned to the bed with her not to sleep; scenes where I woke her up and couldn't even make it back to the bed...

She had put the bed dress on, and I was glad. She would be warmer. Slightly. I only hoped she wouldn't argue with me on this coming day so that I could give her proper sleeping arrangements.

I watched as she lay in the corner, asleep, peaceful now, restful, beautiful...

My dick was growing hard again. I moved my gaze over to my bookshelf. Lots of books. Books on all sorts of things. Books books books. No Bella. I wouldn't look at Bella. It grew harder. Books. Books on law and politics. Books of maps. And the more I tried to put her out of my mind the more I could think of nothing else.

I glanced over at her sleeping form in the corner and snaked my right hand down to my throbbing problem. It had to be dealt with. Aslan damn it, this was her second night here, the previous night she had caused me to explode inside my own trousers, and tonight I was going to have to deal with it, not because I wanted to, but because she made me. I had lost control of my own cock. Aslan damn it.

I closed my eyes and pumped it furiously up and down. It wasn't having any effect. I kept my eyes closed tightly, focussing on the black and working it hard and fast. I always went like this, quick, hard, fast, simple. Or not so simple this time. But no, no I wouldn't give in, I wouldn't think about her. About Be- Be- Bella!

I let out a quick grunting expulsion of air as I came, hard and fast, my cum spurting out of my cock like lightening from the sky. Lightening. Dangerous lightening. Bella was like lightening.

I snapped my eyes open and glanced over, checking that she was still in her corner and still asleep. I was disgusted with myself. It really was not appropriate behaviour, it really wasn't.

I sighed, giving in and swinging my legs out of bed, grabbing yesterday's tunic, which was thrown in a pile at my bedside and making my way over to my desk.

I looked at what I had written last night.

"_A strange girl, around my age I should think, haughty, stubborn, wilful, disobedient, and entirely too beautiful for a slave to be. She makes me... When I am around her..."_

Why I had ever thought that was an appropriate letter to send was beyond me. No, no matter what I had thought last night today was a new day. Today I would meet Isabella Swan, my future wife, and I would keep focussed on that, on my future. I wouldn't give in to this... this thing that had entered my life like a lightening bolt. She had been the inspiration for last night's letter, this lightening bolt. And that letter had not been appropriate. I had spent my whole life being appropriate. She was not going to change that now, not after all this time.

I grimaced.

I was also going to stop thinking of her as electricity or lightening. I was going to stop thinking of her.

Today was a new day and I would not think of her. Despite what had happened in my bed less than five minutes ago. And after I wrote about her to Tanya, in a more eloquent way than I had managed the previous night. And after I brought her breakfast, I didn't want to have to deal with her dying of starvation.

Other than that I would not think of her.

I pulled a piece of parchment roughly towards me and stabbed my quill in the ink.

_Dear Tanya,_

_Although I saw you only yesterday morning I am writing to you firstly to apologise for my absence as you parted with us for your own home, it was inexcusable. _

_Secondly, I know that Emmett inferred that I was not there because of Bella, and that when I thought aloud of Bella when I was in your company and you enquired abut her I denied her existence. I apologise, again. Although I was absent this morning and, I will not insult you by lying to you again, it was admittedly to do with Bella, I can assure you it was not because I was doing with her what Emmett implied._

_As to the fact that I betrayed your trust by lying to you of Bella please know, dear Tanya, that it was for myself that I lied, it was not to deliberately or maliciously lie to you. I did not wish to think or talk about Bella, but when I found I could not control my thoughts I became determined to control my words. Please forgive me._

_Your cousin,_

_Edward._

There, that would do. Much better. Much more appropriate.

Bella shifted in the corner, turning over half onto her back before letting out a half yelping half mewing sound as the back of her thigh touched the floor and quickly rolling the other way. I padded softly across the room and glanced down at her. She was still definitely asleep. Probably so exhausted she was sleeping through the pain. I would buy something to numb it a bit while in town today.

If I remembered, because I was _**not**_ going to think about her and therefore I would probably forget. Yes. That was how this would work. It had better.

I opened my wardrobe and selected out a new tunic and trousers for meeting Isabella Swan, gathered my new letter off the desk so that I could pocket it as soon as I was dressed and therefore I wouldn't forget to take it to town with me, and then went into my washroom to clean up and dress.

I squeezed the water over my head, I would need to set up some sort of arrangement for Bella, I hardly wanted her to smell. Nor did I want her to feel uncomfortable because she felt unclean. But my main concern was my own nose's reaction to her. Of course. The main thing would be to make sure that she didn't think I was being nice to her. If she sassed me today she would sleep again without pillows or blankets or a mattress but she would wash, regardless.

And she would eat. After soaping, rinsing, drying and dressing I set off to pick up breakfast for Bella.

"Morning Edward," my mother greeted me as soon as I walked into the breakfast room. I smiled in response but said nothing, instead picking up a plate and glancing over the food on offer.

There was fruit, bread, cheese and eggs. What would she prefer?

Fruit was too tricky, and Lone Island fruit was different to Narnian grown fruit, so I eliminated that and took a good helping of everything else.

"Are you not sitting to eat breakfast with us?" my father enquired his eyes meeting mine with a laugh in them over a letter he was reading with his breakfast.

Breakfast was the only meal we all came to without a set time in place and were not required to have a family conversation, even my mother had accepted that the morning was not a good time to mix us all. I strongly suspected that my father would have preferred all meals to be taken in this manner, it allowed him to read his mail and therefore work over meals, and my father seemed to agree with me that there were too many different opinions in the family for us all to agree round one table. But my mother wanted family dinners and what my mother wanted my father would usually give her. Ninety nine point nine percent of the time anyway.

"This is not for me, it is -"

I had started to say that it was for Bella but my father's eyes went wide and he gave me a slight shake of his head, his eyes flicking towards my mother, though she didn't notice. Obviously slaves would be a touchy subject.

"I have work to do before this morning; I'll eat in my room."

"Today will go better than you think, my son."

"I have every hope it will do well, I would love to take a bride and be done with the whole affair," I grimaced.

"Edward, do not marry lest it be for love, I thought you of all my children understood this," my mother suddenly joined in.

"Mother, I promise you if I do not feel for our future Queen I will not pursue but I hope that I do feel for her, for all our sakes."

"Oh Edward, you do want love don't you?" my mother looked up smiling, her eyes placid.

_I have found it, mother, and I doubt I shall find such a love again. _

Such a bitter thought. But if I could be..._ content_ with Isabella Swan, I would agree to the marriage.

"I do mother," I said stiffly. _The fact is, I shall settle for life without it. If it will be simpler._

"I shall meet you on horseback and ready to leave at the front doors in an hour to go to town, your brothers wish a trip before you and I go to meet The High King and Princess. I believe they have things to buy," my father interjected.

I turned my gaze on him, "That will be fine."

He dipped his head, understanding that I was grateful for the end of the conversation and the opportunity to leave the room.

Sometimes I felt that my father would be the only man to ever understand me. Probably because he was always as controlled as me, but my controlled nature always came over cold and unfeeling and hard, he just always seemed calm.

Bella was still asleep when I entered the room and I was glad for that gave me the opportunity to pick her a dress before she woke up and watched me doing so. I put the breakfast plate down on the desk and then crossed to go through the dresser that contained some of Tanya's clothes. I pulled out an apple white chiffon creation with long chiffon sleeves and laid it on the bed. I was plain but the fabric was beautiful and the inside was lined with silk, which would hopefully brush over the welts I had left on her from the other night rather than irritating them.

Bella still hadn't stirred. I opened the heavy curtains and allowed sunlight to stream in through the large windows. She stirred slightly but did not wake. I glanced at the eggs on the desk, I did not want them to go cold but I didn't want to force her out of the sleep she so needed.

I stood over her, hoping that perhaps my presence would transfer into her subconscious and that she would wake.

Aslan must have been listening for her eyes fluttered open and she looked up at me. For a moment the haughty little lioness was gone and instead was some delicate, wide eyed, confused little lamb. I couldn't decide which side of her I loved more. She blinked up at me and then her eyes clouded with questions.

I thought of what she had asked in her sleep last night.

No, no I would not think of that. I would put all recollection of that out of my mind.

"I brought you breakfast, though you took so long to wake up that it will be cold by now."

We locked eyes for another moment and I realised that she could not relax in my presence, so I turned and left the room, hoping she would realise that the dress on the bed was for her to wear.

I wandered down to the stables and saddled my horse so that it would be ready for me to mount and ride. Perhaps I should check on her to make sure she had eaten and was wearing the dress. Maybe I should just stay away. No, I would go make sure she had eaten. And was aware that I had left her the dress and that I wouldn't treat her badly so long as she wasn't rude or disrespectful to me. Because as much as it might be easier if she ran away, I truly didn't want her to.

Not that I was going to think of her today. At all. After I checked on her.

Alice was wandering up the corridor towards my room just ahead of me as I entered it and she froze when she recognised my footsteps behind her.

"Edward," she span round on the spot and smiled prettily up at me, "I thought you would have-"

I strode past her and landed a light smack on her rear end as I passed, suppressing a smile at the friendship my sister and Bella seemed already to have, "You just thought that I was away and you would go visit my slave without my permission and get her into more trouble than you did yesterday."

She ran up the corridor to catch up with me, "And you're thinking that you like that we have a friendship."

I glanced down at her, schooling my face to be impassive as ever, "And you're thinking about what I told you the other day, that if you didn't stop abusing whatever strange twin connection we have I would whip you, and you're therefore going to stay out here while I go in and talk to Bella and tell her she has my permission to spend the day with you."

"Ohhh Edward!" she squealed and threw her arms around my waist, "I knew it! I knew she'd improve you and make you more agreeable."

I frowned down at the top of my sister's brunette head of hair and patted it awkwardly, "I am hardly more agreeable, but I am on a time limit if you'd care to get off me."

She giggled and did some strange gallopy skip up the corridor, jumping every so often and clapping her hands. I shook my head as I pushed my door open quietly, slipping into the room. Alice may have been my twin but that did not mean I would ever fully understand her.

Bella did not turn to look at me, whether out of defiance or because she hadn't heard me I didn't know. She had not changed out of the bed dress, nor moved from the desk.

"Bella," I said, in a stern, commanding voice, chastising her for not looking round at me. She jumped. She must not have heard me enter. I bit my lip slightly and then softened my voice to a dull indifference again as she turned to look at me, "You may wear the dress I have left on the bed then spend the day with Alice. Jasper, Emmett, my father and I have to go to town. Leave the plate on the desk I will have one of the house slaves remove it."

She did not seem to have any reply to make so I left the room, almost smacking Alice in the face with the door as I opened it.

"You will wait for five minutes before you enter, she needs to change dresses and I do not wish you to make her feel uncomfortable by walking in on her during such an act."

"We're both women!"

"I don't care, Alice, the Narnians are more private than the Lone Islanders. Even the nobility do not even use slaves to dress them, they usually only have one chosen servant to do such a thing. Although she is clearly not of noble birth respect her customs and her privacy, we do not know how she has been brought up."

"Right," she grumbled and pouted.

I laughed, "Did you never hear that High King Peter once threatened Queen Lucy when she pouted that if she didn't stop it the wind would change and her face would stay that way?" It was one of those strange sayings that must have come from the other world; no one in Narnia had ever heard it before.

"Rubbish!" Alice snapped, but stopped pouting.

The time in town with my brothers was kept civil mainly by my father. I could tell that Emmett had much he wished to say to me, but after the escapade at the dinner table he was choosing to be silent around our parents. I thanked Aslan for that, for it meant that he was therefore silent more of the time he was around me.

It was most obvious when he asked why I was so eager to get to the post office and I told him that, thanks to him and what he said to Tanya the previous morning, I owed my cousin an explanation and apology and wished to send her one as soon as was possible. This, happily, was this morning.

Emmett smirked, opened his mouth, looked at my father and closed it again.

I could imagine fine well what Emmett's sarcastic and juvenile response was going to be. It was a relief that I did not have to waste my time hearing it, or coming up with something to reply witheringly to it, as I usually did. In truth though, even if I had heard what he had to say, it would not have mattered. It was important to me to clear the air between my favourite cousin and myself, though I couldn't help but feel that my letter was by far less honest than the previous nights.

As it was, _she-who-I-was-NOT-going-to-think-about_ was dominating my thoughts so much that I was going to find meeting with Queen Isabella Swan and being agreeable to the woman who I may possibly marry but who, through no fault of her own I did acknowledge, was not Bella, never mind having the idea that Tanya was also upset with me hanging over the days tasks.

Today's task. Isabella Swan.

She would be a task.

Less of a task than Bella though, I imagined, even given what I had heard to the future Queen.

I paid 20 cresents for the fastest possible delivery, by centaur, for the letter and was assured it would reach her by the following morning at the latest.

It took a great weight off my mind to know that I had dealt with the situation as much as I could and that now all that was in my power to do was wait for her to reply. If she did reply. If she ever wished to speak to me again. I could only hope that she did. I needed Tanya in my life.

As it turned out Emmett was in town for a new corset for Rose and Jasper had merely come so that Alice could spend time with Bella and he wasn't left lonely.

As neither my father nor I had any wish to accompany Emmett into a lingerie shop for his wife we decided to split into two groups, and Jasper and Emmett went together since they would both be returning together, earlier than us.

Emmett was off in the direction of the shop for ladies under-things as soon as he had saddled his horse, and I chose this moment to speak discreetly to Jasper, since Jasper understood better the idea of keeping mum on certain things.

"Jasper, whilst you are forced to be in there with Emmett, if I give you some money would you please, uh, please purchase some under things for Bella. And then give them to Alice to give to her, I- I do not wish to cause her any embarrassment in thinking that I bought them or that you indeed picked them. I would ask Alice to actually come in, take the money and buy them but I don't wish to wait until she is willing to give up her time to do it, and I certainly don't wish her to bring Bella into town and have her know that I wish things bought for her."

Jasper regarded me, "I will do as you _wish_, since this seems to have been yoru choice of word in association with Bella," and here he raised an eyebrow at me, which I ignored, "On each of those counts, but why should Bella not know?"

"I, I am not comfortable with her knowing."

"You, in general are not comfortable with anyone knowing that your heart is not made of glass and your face of an unchangeable steel. However I accept that this is the way you are and I shall not ask you to change that."

I regarded him, "I am grateful for that, Jasper."

I nodded stiffly, and he smiled easily. Although, like me, Jasper was controlled, as with my father he seemed mainly to just give off an aura of contentment and calm. I did not know why my control left me seeming to unfeeling and harsh. But I was viewed that way now and I would not change. To give in now, after years of people asking me to be less of a foreboding presence would seem ridiculous. And weak. And I, Edward Anthony Masen Cullen, was not weak.

I reached into my saddle bag and pulled out a bag of coins.

"Err… how much do ladies under-things cost?"

"Depends on what you want."

"I do not want her to suspect that they were bought for her because she means anything, just something basic to make her feel that her dignity is intact. No special corsets or whatever nonsense Emmett indulges Rosalie with."

"All women wear corsets Edward, I have no doubt that Emmett is indeed indulging Rosalie with some special form of corset that goes beyond the norm, but all women do wear them."

"Well, one of those then, but plain, not ridiculous looking." Bella doesn't need anything to enhance her, she would best suit plain, simple things that did not take the attention away from her face.

"And… ahhh… whatever else is required by women," I hastily added when I saw Jasper open his mouth again. I did not want to get into a discussion on what under-things women wore, "Will 400 cresents be enough?"

"You do realise, Edward, that Bella herself was bought for 150."

150? 150! Bella was worth more than that – her face, her eyes, her figure, surely…

"Right well, take 400 and then just bring back whatever's left. I really don't want the details," I said, thrusting the bag into his hand.

Jasper smiled and nodded, turning to follow Emmett.

"Jasper!" I called him back hastily.

"Edward?"

"When you and Emmett return, which will obviously be earlier than Father and I, please do not let Bella know of the reasons I am in town today, do not mention Isabella Swan."

"Of course."

Something crossed in Jasper's face which he quickly hid, but I raised an eyebrow at him, letting him see that I'd seen it, but not forcing him into answering.

"It was nothing," he said quickly, "I was just merely wondering if she was named for the queen, Bella, Isabella, being Narnian. It's probably a very common name though."

"I suppose she could be. It will indeed be a common name, especially after the Princess was born, people often name their children after the monarchy."

"Indeed. I shall go now," Jasper said quickly, this time turning on his heel and striding off, not even giving me a chance to say thank you.

Carlisle cleared his throat from where he was standing beside his horse, being as gracious as ever and pretending that he could not hear any of Jasper and I's conversation.

"Is there anywhere you wish to go? We are not due at the Royal Quarters for another hour yet," he said.

"I need to visit the apothecary, but otherwise I am not bothered. Perhaps a book shop or two. If there no where you wish to go?"

"I believe some jewellery would be a sensible thing for me to purchase for your mother, especially in light of last night."

"You use any excuse you can to buy her jewellery."

"I enjoy spoiling her. She does not like me to go overboard and buy her things without reason too often, she feels for the poor on the island. But anytime I have an excuse, I will use it, and she cannot argue. Despite the fact she is a woman and that seems to be their forte as a general rule," my father replied, laughing as he spoke about my mother with obvious warmth.

The love and devotion my father had for my mother was fascinating to watch for the next half hour which we spent in the jewellery store, eventually leaving with some diamond earrings which were perfect for my mother, expensive, understated, elegant and beautiful.

My father was not like other men, he had not looked round the store, picked something that looked nice and bought it, but instead had sized up many of the pieces but found that they were not Esme. And my father would not buy my mother anything that was less than perfect for her. Where other men would tire and return to their wives with jewellery that would not be worn, Carlisle diligently persisted.

That was the main lesson I had learnt from my father I supposed, was that hard work and perseverance and diligence paid off. For my father it had, in the long run, got him my mother, his perfect other half with whom he made a whole. If my reward was to be a love and marriage like theirs, then I would try.

But Isabella Swan was no Bella. And a small part of me didn't see the point in trying anymore.

I tried, as well I might, to ignore that part of me.

"Father-did you ever have any doubts that mother was the one for you?"

"Never, I just had to convince her of the same thing."

"How did you do that?"

"I showed her with actions rather than words that I would always be there for her."

"How did you know she was the one?"

"I just did. I looked into her eyes and saw someone who made me want to be better, that is when you have found someone to stay with, someone who inspires you to get up every day and try to be better than the day before."

"Why did she need convincing that you were the one? If you looked at her and just knew, then why did she not just look at you and just know too?"

"She did."

"Then why the convincing?"

"Women need convincing because the good ones are self deprecating and don't think they are as good as they actually are. Esme loved me the moment our hands touched, but she didn't think that she was good enough for me, as she told me later. It was preposterous, I was the one never good enough for her. But she thought if we had anything then it would never be real, she thought she would never be enough for me. I had to convince her that love was real and that she was my love, the source of goodness in my life."

I pondered on Carlisle's words whilst in the apothecary, purchasing Extract of Dryad Kiss, so that I could soothe Bella's wounds that I had inflicted upon her.

Inspiring someone to be better than they already were. Well that seemed to have been a theme amongst the ancients. When Queen Lucy had first met Tumnas he had been in the service of the White Witch, ready to turn Lucy over to her, but he hadn't. Because Lucy had been good and therefore inspired him to be good. And Aslan himself had died on the Stone Table for Edmund, and that had inspired Edmund to be better than he had been before. Inspired him to become one of the best rulers that had ever been in Narnia, to become King Edmund the Just.

"What if I meet Isabella Swan and don't know, don't know right away. Is there any hope for a marriage to be as yours and my mothers is if you don't know straight away?" I asked him after I had paid for the purchase and we were making our way towards the Royal Quarters.

"I cannot say how anyone else finds love, I can only tell you of mine and your mother's experiences."

I supposed that was his way of saying no without trying to ruin my hope. For it seemed that he knew that there was no way I was going to meet the Princess today and feel for her the way he had felt for Esme.

I didn't think he knew anything about Bella or the way I felt for her – I hadn't mentioned it to anyone. But sometimes my father seemed to know things that no one had told him.


	9. Pride

Happy 2011 everyone, hope it brings everything you want it to :)

I know a lot of you have been waiting on this even beign detailed from Edward's POV for a while, I hope it lives up to the expectations.

And please review to let me know if it did, or even if it didn't, those emails make my day :)

* * *

Chapter 9. Pride

"_Pride Comes Before A Fall."_

I brought Bella dinner again that night and we ate again at the desk, sitting opposite one another, her eating and me, writing rubbish on a piece of parchment purely so that I did not sit and stare at her.

She finished what she was eating, placed down her cutlery and was silent.

I noted her silence, it appeared that she was learning. Or not so that she was learning, but perhaps, I thought, but perhaps she had acquiesced to my demands in slight gratitude of the night dress. She had not asked my permission, she would not bow that low to me, I would need to earn that from her. But she was silent. She gave in to me in that way. I was proud that she gave be some obedience, and proud of me for earning it, proud of her for offering it. It was a great achievement on both our parts.

"I see you have learned your lesson from last night. Good."

She did not look at me, give any indication that she had heard me. It was obedience but she would not be taunted with it, nor acknowledge it. I hadn't expected her to. I hoped that I could make her revel in my pride in her. But my own pride would demand of me that if she would not revel in it then she would give me it.

Pride was just one of the sins I knew I committed. I loved Aslan, with all my heart, I loved Narnia and I loved everything Aslan and Narnia stood for. But that did not mean I was sinless. Nobody was.

Even though the beauty of the dark haired young woman currently sitting opposite me at my own desk was equal to that of an angel, and despite the fact that I felt almost _blessed_ to have her there, she was not an angel. She too, seemed as guilty as me of committing the sin of pride.

I stood and walked to the edge of the desk, wondering what other sins she had committed. She was fierce and proud and quick tempered. A lioness.

I was proud of her. Proud she was in my room. To be proud of something was to take pride in it. And I took pride in her, and I was proud. But when connected with her, my pride didn't seem so bad. Perhaps, I could hope, when connected with someone or something like Bella, it wasn't so much of a sin. Because I could never completely stop committing the sin of Pride. I was the personification of pride. I was pride.

I let my glance concentrate of the simmering highlights of auburn in my lioness' glorious mane. A lioness would kill for her pride, her family. Animal to animal. That would make her a killer. If it were human to human, that would make her a murderer. But it was for her family, her pride. Without her ability to kill her own family would not survive. Did that cancel out the sin? Did the survival of one family cancel the mourning of another? I shook my head, I certainly didn't know.

But her pride was her main focus, when she killed. She revelled in her pride. She didn't care about herself, only about her pride. A lioness was selfless.

I wished I could be so selfless.

She still hadn't moved.

"Very good, Bella. Now, stand."

Slowly, silently, she again granted me her obedience.

"Come to the edge of the desk and bend over."

She swayed a little, then grabbed onto the edge of the desk for support and did not move.

Please, Bella, _please_. Swallow your pride and do what I ask.

Then it dawned on me. She thought I was making her get into the position so that I could beat her again. She was scared of me, but her pride would not let her show her fear. She was so scared of me she had swayed on her own feet.

At that moment I wanted to go to her, take her in my arms and hold her and promise her that I would never ever hurt her again, and that I would not spank her for punishment unless she gave me reason to, but not brutally, not barbarically. For that was what she must think of me, that I was a barbarian. True, she had been rude the first night she arrived and I had whipped her for it, but too harshly. In truth I had whipped her once for her rudeness and every other lash had been for the way she made me feel, for the way I couldn't control my own feelings. I guessed she was right in her judgement of me as a barbarian.

But I would not be overly gentle. It was not in my nature to be. I could not seduce her to like me based on falsehood.

"Bella, I will not tell you again."

I kept my voice stern, but not unkind, and, after a moment of hesitation she walked to the edge of the desk.

"Bend over the desk, Bella," I cajoled her, willing her to hurry up, so that the moment could come where I could demonstrate what my pride would not allow me to sat in words.

My actions could show that I could be gentle, that I would take care of her, that I would treat her as she deserved, that if she'd let me I would worship her, attend every need she had.

My heart leapt as she did and I gathered up her skirts slowly, pulling them up slowly. It was when I got to her knees that I realised she certainly had no underthings on, so I steeled myself and raised the final lengths slower, bundling them around her waist and fighting the urge to run my hands over the roundness of her hips and then down over her fine, fine derriere. A derriere that was scarred with my handiwork.

I was here to atone for my sins. To try, at least.

"Part your legs, Bella, shoulder width," I ordered her. I knew that this position would make it more difficult for me to give her salvation without giving into carnal desires and slipping my fingers to feel forbidden fruits. However, I deserved this testing, for I had been such a barbarian that I had made sure my riding crop had landed on her inner thighs and that there would be welts there that, due to the lack of underthings, when she walked would rub off one another and cause her the most pain.

At least when she saw Alice tomorrow my sister would present her with the underthings I had instructed Jasper to purchase today. That would separate them from one another, give her nothing but cool cotton to rub off.

Perhaps if I managed to give her salvation through lotion, through trying to help, without letting _any _of me go anywhere I wasn't supposed to then I would be contributing, for the first time ever, to my own salvation.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the Extract of Dryad Kiss and began to slowly rub some into her thigh, being as light as I could, almost caressing her thigh rather rubbing it.

I knelt down behind her, making sure that I was covering the welts inside of her thighs to the tips, determined to avert my eyes from what was very inconveniently located right in front of them.

It was strange, I supposed, that I didn't want to look at her there. That I felt it would be wrong for me to touch her there. She was mine, my property. But I wanted her permission. Aslan, there was something wrong with me. I was not known for waiting for anyone's permission to do anything I wanted to. I took what I wanted, without asking. Even when I knew someone didn't want me to have it. In the past, especially when I knew someone didn't want me to have it.

I looked into the mirror behind my desk so I could see her face, check if the lotion was hurting her in any way, since the wounds were, though two days old, still tender, still raw.

Not helped by the lack of underthings, which was my fault on oversight, I guessed. I always took care of my things. I was always meticulous about that. I needed to be more meticulous where Bella was concerned.

As it was, her eyes met mine in the mirror and she seemed to be intently staring at my face. I straightened it, wondering what I had looked like and how long she had been looking. Her own mouth was slightly open and her eyes… shocked it seemed.

"I would have done this last night, but you threw a tantrum," I said, in answer to the shock in her eyes.

It was not a lie, although I had only bought the Dryad Kiss today, I knew there would be some somewhere in the house. But today I had gone out of my way to purposely buy something to help Bella, to make her more comfortable.

That seemed more worthy of her than of some random half used bottle at the back of a cupboard somewhere.

Worthy. Worthy of a slave. A slave. A slave that I was supposed to not spend any time thinking about today. A slave whom I had spent most of today thinking about.

_"I want a word with you," Emmett's voice had wrung out across the courtyard as I entered._

_It was twilight, a time that occurred 'as evening was making its bed but had not yet decided to lie in it', my mother had always referred to it as._

_"And where's dad?" he asked after a brief pause, noticing my father's absence._

_"I'm not disclosed to share that information, state business," I shouted back across the courtyard at my brother, "As for the words-feel free."_

_I jumped off the horse and entered the stable, Emmett following me._

_"I want to beat you, hard," Emmett said, following me into the stable._

_"Why?" I asked, bored. Emmett told me I did things he wanted to beat me for all the time and the threat had stopped having any impact, despite it being one that would have carried much weight when I was a child._

_"Bella."_

_I stopped short, "What about Bella?"_

_"I want to beat you hard, with a riding crop."_

_"It's none of your business what I beat my slave with."_

_"Bella isn't your average slave, you need to tame her, teach her, sure, I'm not denying that. But I saw the marks you left on her. I don't agree with that Edward and-"_

_I pulled the bottle of Extract of Dryad kiss out my bag and brandished it at him, "And I bought this to try and make up for it, to make her feel better, to heal her."_

_My brother's jaw dropped._

_"Oh."_

_"Yes Emmett, oh," I snapped, throwing the bottle into my pocket for when I would need it later and marching past him into the house._

_Emmett followed me, despite being larger than me he had to hurry to keep up with me._

_"Edward it is not in your nature to try and make up for any mistakes you make, you never admit you make any."_

_"I never said I made a mistake."_

_"You wouldn't be trying to 'heal' her if you didn't think you'd hurt her. Hurt her more than a punishment should."_

_"Emmett I lost my temper, but I am not apologising for what I did or saying that it was wrong."_

_"Well, not to her."_

_I thrust the double doors into the dining hall, where all my family minus my father were gathered around the dinner table._

_"Jasper, you saw the marks on Bella didn't you? And you, Alice?" Emmett called over my shoulder into the room._

_Jasper and Alice looked up, looking between us. And it looked like I was denying the marks altogether._

_Alice's mouth set into a think little line and she opened her mouth to snap at me, I was sure._

_I stopped where I was, just giving Emmett enough notice that he managed to stop striding and crash into me, and held my hands up, closing my eyes. I breathed in and out deeply._

_"Now," I said, opening my eyes and keeping my voice measured, "I am not denying the marks I left on Bella. However I am refusing to say that what I do or have done is wrong. I have bought medicine to try and heal her, but I will not say that what I have done by making the marks is wrong."_

_"At least not in words," my mother murmured. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to hear it and so chose to ignore it._

_"Come, sit have dinner," Jasper said, indicating my usual place._

_"Thank you," I said stiffly, sitting,_

_Emmett clunked loudly down into his own space, grabbing a plate and starting to help himself to pheasant and vegetables._

_"Where is your father?" my mother enquired, her voice quiet. inquisitive and gentle._

_"Father was asked to stay with the King tonight, I am not entirely sure why. We arrived at our allotted time, but after we waited about an hour, one of the king's lords, Lord Marcus, came to greet us and said that there was some sort of emergency, that I would need to go and could father stay the night. Father, being father, said yes and sent me home to tell you that he would be in touch tomorrow when he found out more about the situation."_

_"So you did not even meet the future Queen?" Rose exclaimed from her place next to Emmett._

_"Nope."_

_"Doesn't that upset you, you seemed eager to meet her and have it over with this morning," my mother prodded, curious._

_"I'm not too bothered, I presume once they sort out whatever the emergency is then I'll be called back."_

_"Presume so," my mother said, beginning to eat again but not taking her eyes off me._

_I quailed under my mother's gaze and busied myself with my food, shoving it into my mouth and swallowing so quickly that I probably wasn't even tasting anything._

_I half hoped the big emergency was a life threatening illness and that I wasn't going to have to ever meet the future Queen and therefore I could go on thinking about Bella without having to feel the guilt that I was thinking about a slave when engaged to a future Queen._

_But, I scolded myself, I had to stop thinking like that. About the illness and death thing. Not about Bella. Not today anyway, today it seemed my thoughts had been given an Aslan given grant to go ahead because I had had nothing to concentrate on after the meeting with Isabella had been cancelled, so therefore I had to amuse myself._

_And I had been amusing myself with thoughts and fantasies of Bella._

_She was beautiful, there was no denying that, there was an almost regal quality to her beauty. But, as I had seen this morning when she opened her eyes first thing in the morning, and as I head heard last night as she slept, there was a vulnerability to her._

_I grabbed a plate and began to plate up dinner for her, excited that I would make her feel better after she had eaten._

_"Dinner for Bella?" my twin enquired and I nodded, keeping my face as impassive as ever, but I caught her eye and she smiled at me._

_I made my excuses and left, but before the door closed fully behind me I heard Emmett throw down his knife and fork and exclaim, "Am I the only one who thinks he's being weird? I mean, Extract of Dryad Kiss to put on her welts-that's not Edward?"_

_I caught the door with my foot, wondering what anyone would say._

_"He's trying to atone," my mother said, softly._

_"Atoning isn't Edward's usual style," Emmett said, sarcasm dripping through his voice._

_"Maybe she inspires him to be a better person," Alice said._

_"He's not being a better person, he's just allowing the person he's always been to live."_

_To my surprise the last voice that I had heard before I removed my foot and let the door bang was not my mother's, but Jaspers._

I looked at Bella in the mirror from where I knelt behind her.

Helping Bella was helping me. Giving her her salvation was giving me mine.

Bella was my salvation.

A life with Bella... Would make me better, would heal me.

I had always wanted love for the sake of love and for love's sake alone. I just hadn't appreciated all that love truly brought and what love truly offered.

"Right, you're done," I proclaimed, putting the bottle back in my pocket, "Bed dress is on the sofa. The small room next door has a basin of hot and a basin of cold water along with some soap if you would like to go wash up and get ready for bed."

I got up quickly and turned from her as she stood and made her way out the room. I didn't think I could have looked at her. I had never felt the way I had felt doing that. I knew I cared for her, but to physically look after someone, to care for them in a way of looking after them and making them feel better… I knew she wasn't ill, but it felt the way I'd imagine feeling looking after someone you cared about when they were unwell.

Caring was not a word anyone I knew would usually have used to describe me. I was not easy to get on with, I was not likable and I was not caring. Nor was I usually atoning.

I went into the spare cupboard and pulled out the spare mattress, two good, spare pillows and a thick blanket then busied myself with making her a sleeping place up that she would be comfortable in. I didn't really like to think about her in that way, I didn't like to think about anyone changing me as a person, especially not given what my father had said earlier. It just wasn't possible.

I went and grabbed one of my books of the High King Peter's out of my library and banged it down on my desk, opening it and concentrating on it. Peter had believed in love coming after marriage.

I heard Bella return into the room and didn't look up at her. There had been enough exchanged between us tonight. I didn't want to risk… I didn't want her to know…

"Go to bed," I ordered, making my voice harsh and clipped.

"Edward… Thank you," she said, awkwardly. I guessed, given the pride we both shared, she didn't find thank you an easy thing to say. Hearing her say it was a gift. And hearing her say my name in such a tone… a greater gift. One I was not worthy of.

"Firstly, I have not given you my permission to use my name. Secondly, I need your welts to clear up before I can whip you again without drawing blood," I snapped at her. I made sure my eyes were clear of any emotion before looking up at her, with what was supposed to be a disdainful glance, but what ended up being she and I looking into one another's eyes for a brief moment. I allowed a small smile before looking straight down back to my book. "However, you're welcome."

I didn't see if she smiled back.

She must have been exhausted for she was still and silent straight away. I continued to read the High King's musings on marriage and love for what must have been the better part of an hour.

I had always agreed with the previous King, that people should marry who it was sensible to marry, who it socially made sense to marry, and aim to be content with one another rather than aiming for love. But then, I mused, perhaps the High King had just gotten lucky when he married the Lady Charlotte.

If I did marry the future High Queen Isabella, would I be as lucky? Could I feel for anyone else the way I had felt for Bella?

It was as ridiculous a question as could my father feel for anyone else the way he did for my mother?

I blew out all the candles but one and then went to sit on the edge of Bella's mattress.

"My Bella," I whispered, trying not to disturb her but unable to resist the urge to reach out and stroke her hair, as lightly as I possibly could.

She was beautiful by candlelight. She was beautiful any time, but her skin on the white of the mattress and the candlelight danced and picked up warm caramel tones that were not usually visible in her ivory pallor.

"See where good behaviour gets you, Bella," I whispered to her as she slept, "Oh I shall spank you. Hard and often for your attitude. That coltish attitude, that keeps you standing straight and tall and keeps your head tossed and held high, that I adore in a way you could never understand. But I do not wish to whip you or beat you, Bella. Behave for me, Bella."

I half hoped the plea would enter into her subconscious, that she would just know that I wished to treat her fairly, wished to lavish her with attention and rewards. If she would just behave as slaves were supposed to rather than letting me loose face.

The truth was, Bella was the only slave in our house. My brother had had a bed slave before Rose, and he had bought me a few before whom I had never used and who had magically disappeared. But the rest of our staff, kitchen, cleaning, woodwork, design, interior, garden, water features, stable hands, all of them were paid servants.

My mother hated the idea of slaves. And I feared that she would have a word in my father's ear to pay Bella as he did the rest of them. Because if she did then a contract would be drawn up that Bella would have to sign to receive payment. And it would become a job. And she would be able to resign from a job.

I pulled the covers up, tucking her in, and stroked my hair one last time, before going to my own bed.

I prayed to Aslan that Bella would not leave. Not ever.

She shifted in her sleep, turning to lie facing towards my bed. It seemed she had an unconscious need to face whichever side of the room I was on.

And soon I myself drifted into sleep, facing her, smiling.

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	10. Hope

**So the days in the following chapter were skipped over in The Lion, The Witch and His Lioness as from Bella's POV they weren't absolutely necessary, however they are from Edward's, which you will see why I hope and understand :)**

**Also - there is an Edward driven lemon at the end chapter (no not _that_ first one from TLTWAHL - thats in the next chapter) but it involves Edward and his riding crop, that's all I'm gonna say. This story was rated M nd I am giving you warning of this now so don't read it and then tell me that it's wrong.**

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**Chapter 10. Hope**

"_The inability to open up to hope is what blocks trust, and blocked trust is the reason for blighted dreams."_

– _Elizabeth Gilbert_

I rode to town again the following day and met my father briefly for lunch, but again I did not meet Isabella Swan.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you anything yet son, but things are not going well. We could all be in for some unpleasantries in the near future," my father had said grimly when I questioned if the reasons for me not being permitted to meet her yet and the reasons for him having spent the night at the royal headquarters the previous night were interlinked.

All he had told me other than that was that he would be staying there again that evening and that he would appreciate it if I returned the next day.

The only notable thing about the entire day had predictably occurred that evening when I returned home to Bella.

She had refused to eat the dinner I brought, telling me that she did not like pork and I had taken it wordlessly off her and returned to the great hall to see if there were any other options.

"She told you what?" Rosalie snapped at me as I surveyed the table before me.

"She doesn't like pork."

"And you're back here checking if there's anything else on offer?"

"Yes."

Rosalie's mouth fell open.

"Well, she doesn't like pork," I had snapped, throwing the plate down, "I'll go ask the kitchen staff to make something else since nothing else is here clearly. And please shut your mouth Rosalie. And feed that food to one of the dogs when you get the chance."

"Edward, please don't talk to your sister in that manner, you can hardly blame her for her incredulity," my mother had admonished gently.

I felt slightly guilty, only my mother could ever really make me feel guilty.

"My apologies," I had muttered stiffly.

"Hey, don't worry about it," Emmett had grinned at me, "Guess it's just strange to see you, Edward, of all the people I know, going soft."

"Soft?"

"Well, you usually are quite demanding of your slaves, and they tend to get what they're given and you don't give a damn how they feel about it."

"Emmett, language, please," my mother had begged him.

"Sorry mama," he had turned towards her, his face softening.

I realised, then, that he was right.

I turned and marched to my room, determined to put Bella back in her place. I was glad I had left wordlessly, she wouldn't particularly know where I had gone or why.

It had strengthened my resolve when she had looked up at me as I strode back into the room with an expectant look, clearly thinking I was bringing her a replacement dinner. I had told her last night, hadn't I? I had whispered to her while she slept that I would spank her hard and often for her attitude. It wasn't my fault her subconscious did not take the warning seriously.

Besides from which, it would probably be a good thing to discipline her for her attitude so that she could see that I was not a barbarian with a riding crop, merely a master commanding respect.

"Your dinner is now being enjoyed by one of our dogs. Now bend over the end of the desk."

"But…"

"Now!"

She stood, grumbling and complied.

"Put your hands under your stomach, part your legs to shoulder width and bend your knees slightly," I ordered her.

She glared at me, but again complied.

I laid my left hand in the small of her back, letting her know that I was there and that it was alright, and used my right hand to bundle her skirts up.

The idea of parting ones legs and asking them to bend their knees was due to the fact that this rendered them unable to clench their buttocks and made spanking a lot easier. I had not counted for the fact that the soft darks tufts of Bella's secret hair and the pink mound of her secret places would then show slightly between those parted legs.

I did not spank her hard, just enough to turn her pink and warm under my hand, before sending her to bed without supper.

And again she had complied.

It was strange, her head was high and she complied with glares and grumbles. But she did obey me.

"Bella, don't exaggerate with that rubbing I know well that I did not spank you hard enough for it to be anything more than a slight sting," I called after her as she exited the room to go to the washroom and change into her bed dress.

She had merely tossed her hair and raised her eyebrows at me as she looked at me from over her shoulder, her hands glued to her derriere.

I waited until the door was shut behind her until I smiled. That coltish attitude would be the death of me, I was sure of it.

But the other thing was that I had been pretty sure that her _female parts _were wet. And if I recalled correctly a book I had read a while ago in the public library had stated that when a female's _secret parts_ were wet then it meant she was aroused. And the idea of Bella being aroused aroused me. Well, aroused me further than I already had been aroused by the sight of her naked rear, turned up and waiting for my hand. And as soon as Bella returned and had gone to bed, I had blown out all the candles and gotten into my own bed to take care of the arousal.

I had found the book I had been thinking of in the library the next day and, after another un-illuminating lunch with my father, I spent the rest of the day pouring over it, learning about the female anatomy and how that pink promised land worked. And how best to treat it when it was aroused.

I got the chance to check if the arousal I had thought I had seen in Bella's genitals was really there or not the day after that when I again found Bella bent over my desk again.

I warned her that if she did not watch her general attitude then there was a serious possibility that one of my family members would discipline her and that both Emmett and Jasper were harsher than I was. Which was not, generally speaking, true, but I had been holding back so as to show her that, contrary to the impression I had originally given, that I was not a barbarian.

She had made a 'humph' noise and so I had landed the last swat in between her legs rather than on her sit spots as I usually did.

A jolt seemed to pass through her entire body with this and her upper body went rigidly and came slightly up off the desk before collapsing back down. And my hand was definitely moist.

I had pulled her skirts back into place with my left hand and again sent her to change and go to bed.

As soon as the door was closed I licked my right hand. Salty, warm. She was definitely aroused.

I spent another night taking care of my own arousal, lubricated this time with Bella's.

The next day's lunch with my father had proven to be even less illuminating than the previous two days', and even more annoying.

He had again been unable to divulge any information about why I was not allowed to meet with the future Queen, Isabella Swan, but rather than tell me nothing and change the subject Carlisle had put down his cutlery and eyeballed me over the table.

"Edward, what are the possibilities you will marry Isabella Swan?"

I swallowed, "Why do you ask this now?"

"I am merely inquiring."

I thought of Bella and bit my lip.

"There is a possibility; I am not totally against the idea..."

"But you are not taken with it."

"I am not swayed one way or the other."

"Edward, may I enquire, if not Isabella then who?"

I looked up at Carlisle. I had no idea at this current moment if he was asking me as my father or as Carlisle Cullen. The thing was, it was Bella. If not Isabella then Bella. Even with Isabella, Bella was still my preferred option. I was consumed by her, thoughts of her every waking minute, images of her every non waking minute. As my father, Carlisle would understand that. I hoped.

As Carlisle Cullen, he would merely see me as turning down his best friend's daughter, whom he himself loved as a daughter, a girl who on paper seemed a perfect addition to our family, a perfect match to me, and a girl who would be Queen, allowing me to work for a better Narnia, which I had always been interested in... On paper, Isabella Swan was perfect. And Carlisle Cullen could not be expected to understand why I would wish to turn her down for a slave.

"Tanya?" my father prodded me when I did not provide a vocal answer.

"No, not Tanya," I said quietly. I would never love Tanya, as much as, again, she was a good match. Not as perfect as Isabella Swan would have been, but it would have been convenient had I loved Tanya.

"Edward, everyone in court wishes to betroth their son with Isabella, yet you are the only one that I think would be suited, not based on the fact that you are my son but based on you and she as individuals."

"I thought you said she was spoilt and irritating- you know my lack of patience Carlisle."

"Yes, but it is nothing she cannot be taught to grow out of with the right encouragement."

"I don't know Carlisle."

"Right now," he proceeded slowly, "Would you not even consider an engagement? One which you could call off if it was to go wrong when you do meet her? It would not need to be publically announced, just known amongst the lords and officials... It could be kept quiet."

I stared at my father. What was he asking of me? Carlisle was a measured man, but he was logical. And I got the feeling he was asking this of me as Carlisle, not as my father. And this meant that there was some connection between this, between his staying at the royal headquarters the past few nights, and between me not meeting Isabella Swan.

I called him out on this and demanded an answer, but he refused to give it to me.

"Edward I have told you I cannot, you are not authorised to know these things. I... I urge you to consider it."

"As my father or as the King's right hand man?"

"As both. As your father I think a stubborn, wilful, headstrong girl like she would make a good match to you for all your demands of obedience. And as the King's 'right hand man' as you put it, I think you are a suitable match for the future Queen and you also have a deep interest in history, politics and economics and in helping Narnia. You know what they say about this Queen. And you know you wish to be a part of that."

What they said about Isabella Swan. She was the first monarch, ever, who would sit on the throne at Cair Paravel with the blood of all four of the ancients in her. It had taken generations of matches to make it such, but it had come to it now that she was directly descended from the High King Peter, the High Queen Susan, the High King Edward, and the High Queen Lucy. The original four were in her blood, and Narnia under them had been known as the Golden Age. And it was said that when she took the throne, she would restore the Golden Age again. I had to admit, my father was right, I did wish to be a part of that.

Having been brought up with my father always working at court I had become interested from a young age in the dynamic, and I had never seen myself do anything other than Carlisle's job, the Chief Advisor to the monarchy. But if we were to have a High Queen, then her husband would be King, not High King. Effectively, her husband would be under her and probably would be her Chief Advisor.

That was the other thing about Isabella Swan. I didn't want to always be one less than my wife. It was immature, to think of it like that, I knew it. But I couldn't help it.

And because of her status, I would not be allowed to propose to Isabella Swan. If we were to get married, she had to ask me. It was improper otherwise. And I – it was ridiculous, and I would never admit it to anyone – but I wanted to propose to a woman whom I wanted to have by my side for the rest of my life, I wanted to look in her eyes and tell her what she meant to me and then ask her to mean that for the rest of forever, ask her to complete me, to make me a whole with her.

The thing was, Isabella gave me hope that I could help, help with the greater good, help build a better Narnia. And Bella gave me hope that I could become a better Edward.

Bella gave me hope that I had someone out there who was designed for me to look into their eyes and tell them what they meant to me and ask them to mean that for the rest of forever.

I had never felt hope like that before.

"Give me till tomorrow to think about this, please," I said after a long pause.

"Of course," Carlisle had replied.

I had gone to a shabbier book shop after our lunch and bought books that were not generally deemed appropriate, smuggling them home with me, through the barricades of my siblings.

It was as I was nearing my room with them that Jasper decided to stop and tell me that Alice had given Bella the under things I had made him purchase for Alice to give to her in town the other day. Apparently she had said that it made her happy. I clutched the books tightly under my riding cloak. If simple things, such as under things, made her happy, I shuddered to think what the things that were detailed in the books would do to her. Hopefully they would make her ecstatic. If she ever gave her permission for me to carry out such actions.

And there it was again. The other day I had been worried about being worthy of her, worthy of a slave. And today I wanted her permission.

I fell asleep that night facing towards the direction of Bella's mattress, my hand outstretched towards her, dreaming of illicit things described in the books.

_She was on my sofa naked, her head thrown back, mouth parted in cries of desire, her back arched, offering her beautiful, ripe breasts up to me. Her legs were wide and open, her sex exposed. _

"_My riding crop can make you feel good Bella," I whispered in her ear, bring it down on her right breast._

_Her nipples were hard, begging out for me to take them in my mouth and suck or bite or play or twiddle between my fingers, offered up to me to do whatever I wanted with._

_I cracked the riding crop down again, lightly, on her other breast. She cried out, some strange, uncharted cry._

_I began to circle her nipples with the crop, teasing one, then the other, bouncing it off each breast in turn._

_I bent down from behind her to nibble at her neck and in doing so brought the crop further down her body, down to her cunt._

_And just like it had been the other day over my desk her cunt was wet with want and need for me. I brought the crop down, gently tapping her clit with it, before almost vibrating my wrist to make subtle, tiny side to side movements._

_She shrieked and her legs closed of their own accord, aching to create some friction._

_I pulled the crop out and she begrudgingly parted her legs again, and I couldn't help but notice that they were weak and trembling with desire._

"_Bad girl," I murmured in her ear, bringing the crop down on her each of her inner thighs alternatively. _

_Not enough to mark, just enough to make a pleasant sting._

"_We stay open for me, don't we?"_

_She nodded, biting her lip, unable to coherently make words come._

"_Always open for me, just for me," I brought my lips back to her neck and she stretched it further back, allowing me even better access._

"_Yes Edward, open, just for you, always for you," she said breathily, her voice catching every so often as she gasped when my tongue lightly flicked against her neck._

_I dropped the riding crop and circled round the sofa so that I was in front of her._

"_My beautiful Bella," I smiled, leaning forward over her to kiss her on her mouth, lovingly, my hand reaching to cup her face before it wandered down to her breast. My mouth kept kissing whilst my hand played with her breast, kneading it, rolling it, pinching it, caressing it..._

_I lowered my mouth down to that nipple, moving my hands to the other. I sucked long and hard at Bella's beautiful round erect nipples, offered up to me to do whatever I wanted with. _

_Because she trusted me. Trusted me enough to offer herself to me. Her offering was beautiful._

_And I would thank her for it._

_I pressed one last loving kiss on her lips before getting down on my knees in front of her spread legs and examining the pink goodness offered to me down there._

_I trailed one finger hesitantly from her clit down and she spasmed with pleasure. I could see the moisture that had run totally off her pooling in a small puddle on the sofa already._

_I moved my hands to her thighs, pushing them back further and bringing the sweet offering of her cunt further forward before I buried my face in her, inhaling her._

_I let my tongue come forward and lick slowly, firmly, luxuriously from the bottom to the top of her pink mound. She cried out above me as I repeated it again and again. I wanted this map to heaven inked on my tongue._

_She truly was an angel._

_And I wanted to please her._

_I lifted my tongue a little and began to concentrate on her clit, swirling my tongue round and round it and she threw her head back and screamed out my name._

"_Edward!"_

I awoke with a start.

In my sleep I had managed to cum all over my own duvet. Lovely.

"Edward," her voice said, quietly, reverently.

I got out of bed and went to where she lay, hoping I had not talked in my sleep. But her eyes were closed. She was sleep talking again. About me.

I smiled down at her and reached for her tiny hand which was gripping onto her duvet cover for dear life. I stroked my thumb across the back of her hand and she relaxed her grip on the duvet but instead took three of my fingers and curled hers around them.

"Edward," she sighed again in her sleep, and it was on the taking of my fingers and the sighing of my name that she smiled.

Even in her sleep when she thought of me, there was enough there to think about that she smiled. She seemed... content, as she slept, smiling, saying my name.

I was luckier than anybody else in the world. I lay down on her mattress beside her and feel sleep, my hand tightly held in hers, both of us smiling.

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	11. Opening

Thank you to everyone who reviewed, I can't tell you how happy it makes me to get review alert emails :)

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Opening.

_**your slightest look easily will unclose me**_

_**though i have closed myself as fingers,**_

_**you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens**_

_**(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose**_

_**-e..**_

I was lucky enough to wake before she did the next morning, though her fingers still determinedly held mine. I uncurled them gently and tucked the covers in around her, wanting her to sleep a while longer. I was an early riser and always had been.

I washed and dressed and fetched Bella breakfast, leaving it on the desk for her and waking her gently to tell her it was there before returning to breakfast with my family.

There were two letters waiting for me. The first was from my father, asking me to not come to town today but to visit him the next day and the other was from Tanya. I recognised her handwriting and ripped it open, eager make sure that amends had been made.

_My dearest Edward,_

_If you think that I do not know you well enough to know that you would not miss seeing me off for the first time in 14 years for nothing less than an emergency then I am insulted._

_I know you, Edward, I know you more truly than anyone else, you have said this yourself._

_You do not need to ask my forgiveness Edward, it was given before the deeds were even done._

_However, my loving cousin, grant me this: tell me of Bella. As I said, I know you would not miss seeing me off for a small, trifling matter, which therefore means that she must be important. What is important to you is important to me, please do not begin to shut me out now as you do everyone else, please, Edward, I know propriety and socially accepted standards are important to you, even in letter writing, but please do not shut me out, that is all I ask._

_Ever yours,_

_Tanya._

_PS. I know you will have met with our future Queen by now also, was she as bad as you feared?_

I stored the letter in my pocket, I would reply to it later.

"Are you going to town today to see Carlisle again?" Jasper asked me as I finished reading and returned to my bacon.

"No, he will remain at the Royal Headquarters tonight but I have to go see him tomorrow."

"I wonder what it's really all about."

"I wonder that too," I said, nodding my head at my Narnian brother in law. Something was definitely up and I would have preferred to know sooner rather than later what the details were.

"Are you still going to get engaged to the Princess?" Rosalie asked, her eyes brimming with an interest I didn't quite trust.

"I don't know, Rosalie, I haven't met her yet, but father is certainly encouraging me to become engaged to her."

"Your father is encouraging the idea?" my mother enquired, looking slightly confused.

I couldn't blame her, neither of my parents had ever tried to force the idea of marriage upon any of us.

"Well he thinks it would be a good match," I offered up lamely.

"No, it just means there's definitely something I don't trust going on that we just don't know about yet," Jasper said, his eyes focussed on something above my head, lost in his own thought.

"Well on the note of engagements he better return in time for Jasper and I's anniversary ball on Saturday."

"I'm sure it will be sorted by Saturday, sister, remember this is Sunday morning, there is basically a full week to go," Emmett tried to calm down Alice who looked as though she may be about to start hyperventilating.

"So you probably will agree to an engagement if your father is encouraging it?" Rosalie enquired at me, ignoring Alice.

I looked her up and down, not trusting this at all, "I don't know Rosalie, I've told you that already."

"But its not a week its only six days!" Alice was about to begin her awful wailing and quick breathing which I couldn't stand. I couldn't deny that my sister looked like an angel and to see her with her lip trembling and her large eyes glassy would bring grown men to tears, but having lived with her for 18 years I was immune to it.

I put down my knife and fork, excusing myself to our family library for the rest of the morning.

In truth I wanted to spend the whole day with Bella, but we had not yet spent even half a day together and I decided that if I waited till after lunch then I would be easing her into my company. I only hoped that she wished to spend an afternoon with me and would not begrudge it to me, favouring my sister's companionship instead during the day.

It was after lunch then that I began to look for her. I knew she would be with my sister so, after checking my own room and finding it, predictably, empty and having seen no sign on life in the grounds I made my way to my twin and her husband's room.

I did not find Alice nor Bella, but instead Jasper stood, his head against the wall and his arm in a fist beside his head, breathing deeply. It was not a pose that I enjoyed finding my brother in law adopting.

"Jasper?"

He jumped slightly and stood, nodding at me, "Edward."

"Are you quite well?" I asked, knowing that he was not and dreading the reason behind it.

"I need to punish Alice."

"I see."

Jasper would give Alice a hiding when she deserved it, it was true, but he did not find it easy to do. Emmett and I had grown up used to the idea, and it came naturally. To Jasper, not so much. Or perhaps it was not so much that he was unused to the discipline but more that Alice needing it pained him, I wasn't entirely sure, and given the delicate nature of the problem I tried not to ask too many questions.

"If I wait long enough to go back Emmett might move onto her and get it done so I won't have to."

"Emmett will make it much worse for her than you will, Jasper. Probably beyond what she deserves if I have the right recollection of Emmett's punishments, I know he spanks Rose pretty often but he doesn't often spank her hard enough to make her mind and then when he does it has to be extra hard, and I don't think he knows how to do it any other way now."

"True. And even if he does finish with Rose he may move onto Bella before Alice."

"Bella?" my stomach turned to ice. My brother, my huge, hulking brother could not lay a finger on my angel, my electric, sparkling angel.

"They were all fighting. No doubt it was Rosalie's fault but you know how Emmett views it, guilty for provocation, guilty for giving into provocation, guilty for not stopping the other two when they started. Doesn't matter who did what, they've all to be spanked."

I nodded, I knew how Emmett viewed it, the way my father had viewed it when Emmett, Alice and I were growing up- if there was a fight you all got spanked and sent to bed. End of story, no arguments. Didn't even matter that time we had a fight over the breakfast table at 7.30am on a Saturday morning...

But it probably was Rosalie's fault. I thought back to breakfast that morning, she had seemed to be pushing the idea of my engagement. Could that have been anything to do with it? I shook my head in a vain attempt to clear my mind, as though I expected my thoughts to go out via my ears or something before looking at Jasper again.

"Are they in Emmett and Rose's chambers?"

Jasper nodded.

"Get whatever you're going to use on Alice and let's go get them, I don't wish Bella to suffer bearing Emmett's punishments ever, and especially not in a room that contains Rosalie."

Again Jasper nodded and walked to the desk in which I knew there was a stiff wooden board that he kept for whenever he felt his hand was not going to be an adequate message provider.

I turned on my heel and hurried towards Emmett's chambers, hearing Jasper come out a little way behind me, though I did not talk to him or even turn to look at him, instead using the walk to steel myself for what I would have to do. I had spanked Bella over my desk a few times in the past few days for various misdemeanours, but only with my hand. And once with a hairbrush I had purchased for her, but which conveniently came with a wooden back.

I could only breathe a sigh of relief when I reached Emmett's room and found him still in full swing with Rose, Bella sitting beside Alice on the sofa looking shaken but holding her head up, not giving in. My heart swelled with pride for her and how she was handling herself, but as ever I made sure nothing showed on my face.

"Emmett stop a minute!" I half shouted across the room, but he was too busy dealing with his errant wife who currently lay face down on the bed, her dress bundled up on her back.

I crossed over to him, and grabbed his hand that was reigning down fire on her backside.

"Are they all to be beaten?" I asked him once he had ceased swatting and she continued wailing, hoping that Emmett would decree that Bella could be spared. I didn't answer to Emmett, nor would I, but if Emmett had told Bella she was to be spanked then I could not undermine his authority.

"Yes, you know the rules," Emmett nodded at me.

"Fine, I shall take care of Bella. After you finish with these two your arm shall have not the strength to beat her as she deserves." _Because you will hurt her more than I can bear._

I grabbed Bella's arm and dragged her out of the room and up the corridors to my own.

"Over the desk," I snapped, letting go of her arm and propelling her in the direction of the desk. _Damn you Bella, damn you for making me need to do this._

"Edward-it wasn't my fault!" _Shut up Bella, I cannot bear to hear you say what I feel is probably the truth when I cannot undermine my brother!_

"On second thoughts -here- take a pillow," I said, flinging one from the bed over to her, hoping that this small luxury would be some sort of a sign to her, show her that I did not wish her to feel the pain I must now inflict, "And place it over the end of the desk. I intend for you to be bent over there for quite some time."

And though I had not meant to make it sound so, it sounded _erotic_.

I grabbed a belt off of the top of one of my dressers and then turned to stare at the sight before me.

The sight of her, bent over the desk, her backside offered up and out to me, the pillow possibly causing her some comfort but causing my even more discomfort by emphasising this, her beautiful asset.

She would be the death of me.

I had known that from the beginning though, hadn't I?

Reluctantly and eagerly if it were possible I pulled her skirts up to her back, noting happily that the normal skirts were now accompanied by underskirts which Jasper much have purchased that day in town. If it gave her more comfort then I was happy to go buy her a million more.

"Open your legs, Bella," I ordered, drawing my hand up the back of her thigh.

She quivered at my touch and I closed my eyes and drew my hand away from her, picking up the belt.

I warned you Bella, I warned you to behave otherwise one of my brothers would choose to discipline you, and though I've saved you from that fate now I need to inflict harsher discipline than I ever wanted to.

I didn't relish the thought of hurting her with leather. In fact, I hated it. She was too beautiful, delicate. And she was before me, open, like a flower. So open.

I did not relish what I was about to do, but that mound of pink diamond peeked out at me, curtained by silken wisps of hair.

Yes, she would be the death of me.

I brought the belt down on her once, drawing it away to see the red imprint of the leather come up clearly on her ivory cheek. She did not cry out but I saw her clench her fists and bury her head further into her arms. I couldn't do it to her, I was a failure as a master and a man because… I just couldn't do it.

I dropped the belt, my breathing heavy. She seemed unaware that I had dropped it, despite the sound the buckle made when it collided with the stone floor. She was probably too busy preparing for the next blow to be hearing or thinking rationally.

And as I took in the sight of her bent there, open and offered I became to intoxicated by her to think rationally.

Swiftly I moved to bend behind her, as I had done in the dream and flicked my tongue into her, unable to resist temptation any longer. I would be a sinner forever. I would have no salvation, for if temptation came in the form of Bella, I would never resist.

I needed to make her feel better, and I wanted her to respect me, not fear me, so I would not beat her.

I licked using long firm strokes, dipping my tongue into her and curling it, just like the books I had bought described as being pleasurable.

She gasped, crying out and it was then that I was gone with what I was doing. She was making the same noises here, now, as she had done in my dreams in response to my touch. My fantasy was reality, my reality was fantasy.

"Turn over, Bella," I growled at her, my instincts taking over. She was mine, and I wanted her, wanted to claim her, wanted to ruin her for all other men. I grabbed her hip and helped her over so that she lay on her back, her sweet, sweet core offered up to me, on a pillow, literally.

I used my hands to part her knees further, draping one leg over each side of the desk so that she was fully open and exposed to me. It was truly glorious, like watching the first flower of spring unfurl its petals. She was more beautiful than any rose in any of my gardens, Narnian or Lone Island variety. She was some new kind of variety, unknown by anyone else. A variety all especially for me and my pleasure.

And my pleasure would be her pleasure.

I lightly drew my hands up her thighs before using the to pull back the small covering of skin on her clit and gently blowing warm air across it, to let it know that it too could not hide from me, that nothing in her could hide from me, that she was mine.

Her hips bucked up towards me, pushing her clit further into my face, nearer my mouth. It was probably an involuntary action but I smiled and then landed a kiss on her clit before moving my mouth down, landing kisses all over her inner thighs but avoiding her sex, teasing her.

She was wet, as ever. I looked up into her eyes which were looking at me, her mouth hanging open, longing and want covering her face. She wanted me. She longed for me.

"Your cunt, Bella," I groaned, my face falling forward into it, "Your sweet cunt. Always wet for me. Always so wet and so ready for me. Waiting for me."

It was the greatest gift anyone had ever given me, the look on her face that told me how much she needed me. And it was me. It was that she needed me and what only I could do to her.

I drew my tongue firmly around her, wanting the real map of her inked on my tongue as much as the dream map I had learnt last night, and she thrashed, gasping for me.

"Your cunt is begging for me. You're begging for me," I said, slipping two fingers into her opening, continuing to play with her clit with my tongue.

I teased her in this manner for a while, her body writhing under me and when I realised that she couldn't take much more teasing I removed my tongue and replaced it with my thumb, allowing my fingers to go faster.

She was new at this, tight and untouched, and I could not have squeezed anymore fingers in there. I was the only one ever to have touched her, and she looked at me in a way that confirmed that she desired me to do so. It was more than I had ever hoped to get from life.

I locked eyes with her as she screamed my name, _my name_, and I felt her spasm around me for the final time, clenching and releasing my fingers, coating them in her own sweet juice, before she collapsed down onto the desk, gasping for air and spent at the hands of me. Of my own work.

I stared down at her as she lay there below me, flushed and heaving, exhausted and spent. She was beautiful there was no denying that. And my tongue had dipped into her and entered her and my fingers had danced her to climax, to what I was sure was her first ever climax. I smiled down at her. She was mine. I had made her so. And I was hers.

She was mine and I hers? Where had my senses got to. I wiped the smile from my face and spat out only two words, "Bed, now," before I rushed from the room.

I was about to slide down against the wall outside my room when I realised she would probably use the washroom before bed and so I ran into the storage cupboard opposite. The door was wooden and I clichedly looked through the keyhole, watching for her to exit the room.

By the time I realised she was not leaving the room and I stood my knees were stiff and my back sore from crouching so long. What did I say to her? What did I do? I had invaded her, used her, abused her. She was still in maiden state, truly, but I had touched her. She would hate me.

I went to my room and knocked the door. There was no answer. She must have known it would be me, had she thought it to be my sister she would have answered.

I took a deep breath and pushed the door open, preparing myself mentally for whatever would come at me.

I would not apologise, not in words. But I would check that she was alright.

But no sound came, no shouting or screeching, no one hurled themselves at me and set about me, instead I realised, as I cast my eyes around the room, Bella was indeed in her own make shift bed, asleep.

I crossed the room and sat down on the ground by her bed, watching her sleep. There was probably something highly wrong with it, but I did not sleep all night, instead choosing to stay awake and watch her.

I had watched her open to me, and now she would close forever.

And as I watched that tiny hand, which only the previous night had unconsciously clenched my fingers now clench he blankets I called to mind a poem penned by Tumnas during the Golden Age,

somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond

any experience,your eyes have their silence:

in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,

or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me

though i have closed myself as fingers,

you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens

(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and

my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,

as when the heart of this flower imagines

the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals

the power of your intense fragility:whose texture

compels me with the color of its countries,

rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes

and opens;only something in me understands

the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)

nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands

Nobody, not even the rain, had such small hands. So small and inexperienced and fragile but yet those tiny hands, this tiny person could control me, opening and closing me, without even being conscious of it. And without her, i and my life would shut, because she would be a beautiful snow. Nothing equalled her, and the way I felt about her now was definitely a place I had never travelled before. But even in her silence her eyes flashed at me, laughed at me, she knew. She must know. Her woman's intuition must have known despite how I tried to hide it that I was hers, completely, utterly, ultimately.

I had thought throughout the entire act that I was opening her, claiming her, and it was now that I realised that I was the weak one who had given in to some carnal desire. I had never acted this way before, never even acknowledged that I felt anything for anyone before. It was her that opened me, made me open and honest and true to my feelings. Yet she did so without violence or power. She was a slave, for Aslan's sake, a slave. She was as low as it was possible to be. Yet she overpowered me. She dominated the all powerful, stern, masterful, controlled Edward Cullen.

And now I had lost control. She made me lose my control. My control which I was famed for.

But I would never understand what she did to make it so, never understand why it was her who broke through what no one else could. I could understand her as little as I could understand my feelings for her. But that was the point wasn't it? Nobody ever understood it.

And now I was pretty sure that any small chance I had ever held with her was lost forever.

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somewhere I have never travelled gladly beyond is by e..

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	12. Inspired to be Better

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed, your reviews are what makes me keep posting :)**

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**Chapter 12. Inspired to be better.**

**Q. What's a soul mate?  
A. It's uh... Well, it's like a best friend, but more. It's the one person in the world that knows you better than anyone else. ****It's someone who makes you a better person. Actually, they don't make you a**** better person, you do that yourself because they inspire you. A soul mate is someone who you carry with you forever. It's the one person who knew you and accepted you and believed in you before anyone else did or when no one else would. And no matter what happens, you'll always love her. Nothing can ever change that. Make sense?**

**-Dawson's Creek.**

I left early the room early the next morning, sleep having escaped me all night. I arrived at the breakfast hall early, before any of my family and managed to eat for myself and gather Bella a breakfast of fruit so that I could leave it in my room for her yet she would be able to sleep as long as she wished without her breakfast being ruined.

I couldn't get over the fact that I had had so little self control as to give into my desires for her. She deserved to be honoured, courted, serenaded. And instead I had dived in, literally, without even kissing her. I hadn't even held her hand yet, and I had, not even touched her, but _licked_ her in her most intimate places.

She would hate me now. She must.

It was with those thoughts that I sat down in my father's office to write a reply to Tanya's letter. I couldn't not shut down now, I would just have to tell her the truth about Bella, that she was a bed slave and meant nothing. I was just going to have to revert back to being cold and hard, that was all. And it would be easy. I had spent my whole life doing so. She had broken that down for a small while, but it had been a mistake. A mistake.

And even if she wasn't a slave and it hadn't all happened the way it had, I wouldn't know how to write of her anyway.

_My dear cousin,_

_I do not wish to shut you out as you put it, but I do not know how to write of Bella. There is nothing much to say, nothing much I can say. She is a slave, gifted to me for my birthday, she is highly unimportant; she just required attention the day on which you were leaving as she was new. Again, I ask your forgiveness though you have already given it so graciously._

_In response to your post script, the meeting has been put off for a while. I do not know for how long. _

_Ever yours,_

_Edward._

I didn't know what else to write. I couldn't explain about how I had been meeting my father every day but that something was wrong. At least, I couldn't explain it in a letter. I didn't know how to write about what was happening there just as much as I didn't know how to write about Bella.

Guilt ate away at me as I rode to the post office, sending the letter before that day's lunch with my father. I felt awful for not telling Tanya everything I was thinking, as I usually did. But it wasn't that I didn't want to tell her, I just _didn't know how_.

"You look like you're thinking hard," my father said, regarding me over the tops of the glasses he only wore when his eyes were tired, as we sat down in the dining room of the Royal Headquarters.

"I've had a lot to think about," I replied.

"I know," he sighed, "And it's time for me to explain to you what's actually going on here."

In all honesty, I hadn't been talking about the Isabella situation when I meant I had a lot to think about, but I welcomed the idea of finally being privy to the information.

"They've decided I'm important enough?" I asked sarcastically, helping myself to a plate of soup from the tureen.

"I argued, convincingly, that if we wanted you to agree to an engagement to a girl you'd never met, you deserved to know the reasons behind why you had never met."

"She's got small pox and is disfigured?" I muttered, clattering my spoon against the bottom of my bowl much louder than was necessary.

"No, but she has disappeared."

I dropped my spoon and snapped my head to question my father across the table.

He sighed and took off his glasses, placing them on the table next to him and rubbing his forehead. He was exhausted, that much was clear.

"The Princess arrived here on the morning after your birthday party, with the boat settling into harbour at approximately 3am that morning. It seems she was definitely on the boat that evening as the King bade her good night himself. When her maids rose to dress her at 9am that morning, she was gone. No one seems to have any idea what happened in between then."

"Did she not have guards?"

"Usually, but the security team were gathered in the hull all night discussing the security plans for her time on our little Island."

"So the fact she disappeared when they were doing that-"

"Suggests it was someone who knew what they were doing, yes," Carlisle finished my sentence.

I pondered this.

"It seems definite that she has been kidnapped?" I questioned.

"Yes."

"There is no possibility she did not just wander off herself; you have said that her nature is-"

"Her nature is headstrong and it probably would be in her personality to wander off on the first morning of a time on a new island, yes. However, one of her ladies in waiting has also disappeared. The Lady Jessica is not of this personality and would not leave without the men to guard them."

"I see."

We ate in silence for a while, allowing me to turn over this information in my mind.

"If she has been kidnapped then why must I be engaged, there is a possibility she will never return."

"No one is to know of the situation."

"You are a mighty politician, father, in that you avoid my questions," I raised my eyebrows at him and he gave a smile, acknowledging what he had done.

"We were hoping that if you were to agree to an engagement then we could say in the days that the Princess has been supposed to be dealing with public affairs that she has been at our house getting acquainted with you."

"Because there are no problems associated with that lie," my sarcasm dripped off my every word.

"If there were no problems then it would not be a lie," he said simply in response.

"What if, for one, as I just said – she never turns up?"

"We are not discussing that as an option Edward, the King will not have it," my father replied in a voice that closed the matter entirely. I guessed I understood the King not wanting to think of it, he had already lost his wife.

"Well then," I continued, "What of Alice and Jasper's anniversary ball? Or Emmett's birthday ball? All the local Lords will be there, they will surely notice her absence if she is supposed to be with us."

"We will say she returned with the King to her own headquarters those nights, wishing to be introduced to society in a more formal way."

"A ball is a formal introduction to society."

"Not a ball that is held for someone else's anniversary, or indeed their birthday."

I nodded, conceding this argument.

"Besides, we do not intend to announce it until after she has returned or until questioning becomes too great for us to give no public address to the matter, whichever comes first. Therefore, it is a lie that may never need to be told if we work quickly to get her back."

"And who will know the truth-that she is nowhere to be found?"

"Myself, the King, your Uncle, Tanya's father, some of the more trusted men of the court, and, now, you."

"Surely you will tell Mother?"

"If she is not returned to us soon we will head to Narnia to deal with it and your mother will accompany us."

"You think there will be no public notice that all the Lords have suddenly disappeared to Narnia?"

My father sighed, "Edward, I have as much of an issue with this as you. Of course I realise that there is little point in telling blatant lies, we merely need to have a cover in place right now. The King refuses to accept that she might indeed not return. And you cannot blame him for that."

My stomach turned to ice. For the first time in the conversation I stopped thinking of myself or Bella or what me being engaged would mean to me or Bella and instead considered the Princess. There was a real possibility she was dead. She was seventeen, a year younger than myself. I thought of Alice. Bella was even younger than my twin and to think of my twin dead... Or even not dead, to think of Alice being kidnapped being scared and alone and frightened and...

"I will not help to cover this for the sake of covering it up, but will covering it up and keeping public knowledge down help her be found quicker?"

"It should, it would mean we could concentrate on finding her rather than thinking of what to do should someone notice that she seems to be nowhere."

"Then on the following conditions I will agree: firstly, if no word of this is ever needed to be given then I do not need to ever actually be engaged to her."

He nodded, "Agreed."

"Secondly, if this goes as far as you all going to Narnia, I will not agree to be a cover any longer, the people deserve to know what is happening. I will agree to be a cover for as long as you sure she is still on this island, if you need to go any further than I will be no part of hiding it."

"Agreed."

"Lastly, if we do at any point use this as a cover I will accept that I have been publically announced to be engaged to the Princess, but this does not mean I have to go through with any marriage."

That was the big one for me. I couldn't marry her, I just couldn't. As much as I was sure Bella hated me and never would speak to me again I could not treat her one way in a day and be engaged the next.

Again my father nodded, "Agreed."

"Then I shall agree."

My father reached across the table and took my hand, looking into my eyes, "Thank you, son."

It was later that evening, after I had given Bella her dinner that I began thinking again of Isabella Swan.

I was in the library sitting at the table, my head buried in my arms. I was not the only one between the two of us who would possibly have problems with the marriage arrangement. She was being forced into marrying me, much more than I was her. She didn't even know about it, our fathers were concocting it so that we could meet "without the pressure" of thinking that we were supposed to marry each other. Except my father had told me the truth. And my parents weren't going to force me to marry anyone, I didn't need to marry anyone. She had to marry, had to produce an heir. At least I didn't need to deal with that kind of pressure. And all I had done was think of me.

I jumped as I felt a light hand on the back of my head.

"Mama?"

"I wondered if you were asleep," my mother said, settling herself on the table, her eyes taking me in.

"No, just thinking."

"What about?"

"Myself."

She smiled.

"I'm being serious, mother, I was thinking about myself and how many times a day I purely think of myself."

"Most people think of themselves most of the time."

"You don't."

"I have children and husband to think of."

"I highly doubt even if I married Isabella Swan that I would love her the way you love father, therefore I probably wouldn't think about her."

"Then don't marry her."

"What if it made her life easier?"

"What if it didn't make your life easier?"

"Mother – you are the most unselfish person I know, why do you encourage me in my selfishness? I am always selfish, it is ridiculous that I am this way compared to you and father and Emmett and Alice."

"Edward, you are not selfish you are closed off and logical."

"I cannot be that logical- until recently I would only marry for love."

"The one emotion you wish for."

"I also wish I had compassion."

"Edward, without suffering there can be no compassion, you have never suffered."

"Then how is it that Alice and you have compassion?"

"Alice has suffered, as have I."

"How has Alice suffered?" I snapped, but regretted it. I remembered when Alice and Jasper's relationship had begun, the rockiness of it, the time she… I shook my head. Alice had suffered. I knew that.

My mother raised her eyebrow but I connected my eyes with hers, letting her know I was sorry. Because I still couldn't say the words, because I was too prideful.

"The other way one learns compassion is by example."

"But mother you have set me example after example."

"Have I?"

"Of course."

"Edward," my mother sighed, "I am aware of my failings, I-."

She stopped and I realised she was wiping tears from her eyes. I stood and placed a hand on my mother's arm, unsure of how best to deal with this.

"I know that when the Queen died your father and I spent more time in Narnia than we did at home with you three, I know we left you with nannys and staff and-"

"Mother, hush," I ordered her, "You did not leave us, we knew who our parents were, we saw you often enough. I am a failing as a son, not you as a mother."

"You never failed me Edward."

"You never failed me, ever."

"I did."

"No you didn't," I gabbed her arm tighter and shook her slightly, willing her to believe it.

Her arms enclosed me and her head was in my chest and mine on her shoulder and despite the fact that I was around a foot taller than my small mother I felt comforted to be once again held in maternal arms.

"You're so much more open recently Edward, you… you used to be so silent, and I didn't know how to bring you out of it. And then since your birthday you're-"

"Better?"

"Not better, I… I don't want to say you're better because it implies that before you weren't good, but now…"

"Mother, how did you know you loved father?"

"Because he gave me a reason to get up in the morning, a reason to live each day to the full, to be the best person that I could be for that day."

"_that is when you have found someone to stay with, someone who inspires you to get up every day and try to be better than the day before."_

That was what Carlisle had said.

It was not my mother's fault that I was useless; I would not allow her to think that. If nothing else, then this incident between us had encouraged me that from now on I would think more of others, I would stop being selfish and I would have compassion. From now on, I would be a son worthy of Carlisle and Esme Cullen.

And maybe, if I worked hard enough, that would make me worthy of Bella.

And even if I never had her, never got her back, if I managed to make myself a better person for her then I would know, even if I ended up married to Isabella Swan, that Bella had been the one for me.

Because, for the first time, I was inspired to try and be a better person.

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